<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Girl of the Night's Watch by reallybadwriter2000</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405826">A Girl of the Night's Watch</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallybadwriter2000/pseuds/reallybadwriter2000'>reallybadwriter2000</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, During Canon, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending if You Like the Starks, Mentions of Jon Snow/Ygritte - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, Minor Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Minor Original Character(s), Mostly Show-based, No Seriously This is a Really Slow Burn, OC centric, Original Character(s), Romance, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Some angst, Stark Friendly, Swearing, Teen Romance, Trying to Make the Ending Satisfying</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:41:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405826</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallybadwriter2000/pseuds/reallybadwriter2000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Caitriona Norrey's father arranges a betrothal to an abusive southern lord, she and her older brothers hatch a plan: disguise herself as a boy and join the Night's Watch—the one place nobody would think to look. But as Westeros devolves into chaos, everything she knows is about to change.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eventual Jon Snow/OC, Grenn/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: The Celebration at Winterfell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Reposting this—with some updates—from ff.net. I hope you enjoy my little Game of Thrones-themed character concept that completely spiraled out of control because quarantine.</p><p>Oh, also, fair warning: this is based (mostly) on the tv show, not the books. So, if you hate the show, maybe give this one a miss.</p><p>PS: I edit chapters after posting—never stop. I swear it's a compulsion. Just letting you know—every single chapter has been or will be edited after posting.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Reposting this—with some updates—from ff.net. I hope you enjoy my little Game of Thrones-themed character concept that completely spiraled out of control because quarantine.</p><p>Fair warning: this is heavily based on the TV show, and not the books. So, if you hate the show or just want something that's more accurate to the books, maybe give this one a miss.</p><p>PS: I edit chapters after posting—never stop. I swear it's a compulsion. Just letting you know—every single chapter has been or will be edited after posting.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lady Caitriona of House Norrey did <em>not </em>enjoy celebration feasts.</p><p>Between the endless curtsying, socializing, and Gods forbid dancing, she wanted nothing more than to hide, preferably in a place small enough that only she could access it. As a rather scrawny twelve-year-old girl, it would have been relatively easy to slip into a bolthole and remain undiscovered.</p><p>Unfortunately for Caitriona, her father, Lord Rendon Norrey, had expectations that she ingratiate herself to the Starks—Robb Stark, in particular. He wanted to see his daughter become the wife of the Warden of the North someday, and Robb's fifteenth nameday celebration seemed like the perfect opportunity to make that wish become a reality.</p><p>Caitriona would have risked her father's belt to hide through the entire miserable affair, but her two older brothers had promised her a large assortment of sweets if she obeyed and acted the part of the perfect little lady—which was the only good thing to come from the situation.</p><p>Well, she supposed the beautiful new dress her septa had made for the occasion was also a nice treat.</p><p>But no matter how tasty the chocolate-chip cookies or how pretty the dress, nothing could stop the sick little flip of her stomach as they neared Winterfell. She would have given nearly anything for their driver to turn the carriage around and take them back to their keep.</p><p>When her family arrived, the Warden of the North and his family stood in the courtyard to greet them.</p><p>"Rendon," Eddard Stark said, smiling as her father bowed. "How are you?"</p><p>"I am well, my lord," Caitriona's father replied. He finished his bow with a flourish, then moved to greet Catelyn Stark, kissing her hand. "My lady." Afterward, he stood up straight and asked, "You've met my eldest, Owen, have you not?"</p><p>Ned Stark nodded. "Aye. It's good to see you."</p><p>"Thank you, my lord," said Owen, bowing deeply. It took all of Caitriona's willpower not to roll her eyes. He was so stiff and solemn; it looked ridiculous.</p><p>"And this is my second born, Cerys." Cerys bowed as well, but unlike Owen, he subtly winked at Caitriona, as if he too thought this whole situation a waste of time. It made her want to grin.</p><p>"My daughter, Caitriona." Caitriona curtsied, and although she hated the situation, she couldn't help but be proud of herself. The curtsy was rather exquisite if she did say so.</p><p>When she looked up, Caitriona noticed a boy of about fourteen or fifteen staring at her. Based on his age and resemblance to both Lord and Lady Stark—the reddish-brown hair and blue eyes of his mother, and the strong jaw of his father—she was almost sure it was Robb.</p><p>Looking at him made Caitriona's desire to retch even stronger. It wasn't that Robb was ugly—he was, in fact, very handsome—but whether Robb was attractive or not didn't factor much for her. The fact that her father had brought to Winterfell solely for the purpose of being thrown at the Stark heir made her feel more like a shiny toy rather than a person. No amount of good looks could change it.</p><p>It didn't help that Caitriona's brothers had told her what her wifely duties would be once she was married, and they sounded <em>disgusting</em>. Owen and Cerys had laughed and assured her she would come around to the idea once she was older, but Caitriona still couldn't fathom how age would change her opinion of it.</p><p>Rendon Norrey's voice distracted her from her thoughts. She wished she could say it was a good thing.</p><p>"And my youngest, Arthur." Her father gestured to her only younger sibling. He looked nervous as he stepped forward and bowed so deeply that he lost his balance and stumbled, causing Caitriona to wince. To any other person, a six-year-old boy stumbling wouldn't have been a cause for concern, but their father—who made at least one comment per day about his son's clumsiness—expected absolute perfection, especially today.</p><p>Predictably, Rendon looked a mixture of outraged and embarrassed, though it was imperceptible to everyone but his children. Her father had always been good at charming those who didn't know him well. Caitriona knew that look, though, and she knew it would mean a beating for Arthur later. Rendon was always looking for an excuse to punish his least favorite son.</p><p>She wished she had the ability to stop it, but there was little Caitriona could do—beyond fantasizing about sticking her father in the eye with one of her daggers and watching him bleed out on the floor. The Gods could curse her for kinslaying, but they couldn't curse her for dreaming.</p><p>Caitriona looked up at Cerys, who was now standing painfully still. He knew just as well as she did what was going through their father's mind, and like Caitriona, Cerys was not pleased. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it in a small, comforting gesture.</p><p>"My lord," Catelyn Stark said, completely unaware of the tension. "You are very welcome."</p><p>Caitriona's father smiled his most pleasant smile, covering up his anger remarkably well. "Thank you, my lady."</p><p>"You must be hungry after such a long journey."</p><p>Rendon nodded, smiling. "Indeed, we are."</p><p>The Lady of Winterfell smiled back, and, along with her family, ushered them into Winterfell.</p><p>Caitriona dreaded eating with the Starks, but her mind changed once her plate was set down in front of her. The best thing about Winterfell was the food, she decided. It was better than anything at Norwood. She ate as daintily as she could, although it was difficult not to inhale everything. As Caitriona ate, she decided that perhaps this evening would not be so bad after all.</p>
<hr/><p>Oh, how wrong she had been.</p><p>Not only was the main hall much too loud—so loud that she could hardly hear her thoughts—but both her brothers had gone off to dance with two very pretty ladies, leaving Caitriona alone to sit miserably. She was near certain the two ladies were sisters, as they looked almost exactly alike, but then again, everybody was starting to blur into one as the night went on.</p><p>Caitriona's father had forced her to dance with three different lords' sons, which had severely worn on her already short temper. Her feet were starting to hurt as well—they'd been stepped on at least twice—and Caitriona's patience with the whole affair was about to expire.</p><p>It wasn't until she noticed the boy that she found something interesting to dwell on.</p><p>He didn't seem much older than she—maybe a few years at most—with black curly hair and a very brooding look to him. The boy was actually rather nice to look at, although Caitriona didn't care much about that particular piece of information.</p><p>No, the thing of interest to her was that he looked just about as bored and annoyed to be there as she felt. She was so lost in thought over the matter that she didn't even notice her two older brothers sit down next to her.</p><p>"Don't become too enraptured with that one, Riona," Cerys said, looking at her with an amused expression.</p><p>Caitriona broke her gaze away from the boy to glare at her brother. "Don't tell me what to do." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And I wasn't enraptured."</p><p>Cerys grinned. "You know who he is?"</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>"Lord Stark's bastard son."</p><p>That got her attention. "Lord Stark has a bastard?"</p><p>"Oh, aye," he replied. "Jon Snow—sired him during the war. Lady Stark wasn't too happy when he insisted the boy be raised at Winterfell. She despises him."</p><p>Owen, never one for gossip, scoffed at his brother. "How do you know all of this?"</p><p>Cerys shrugged. "Whores talk."</p><p>Caitriona gagged while Owen shook his head in disapproval. Cerys ignored them both. "You, little sister, should be paying more attention to him." He pointed towards Robb.</p><p>She huffed and crossed her arms in defiance. "I don't want to pay attention to anybody. I want to be left alone."</p><p>"Father won't like that," Cerys said, snorting.</p><p>Caitriona made a disgusted noise and silently decided to refuse to look at her brother until he stopped being so annoying. Under another circumstance, she might've been amused by his delight in frustrating their father, but after a long, tiring day, she didn't want to deal with any of this—not Robb Stark and certainly not her father.</p><p>Owen put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. "Come on; I promise it won't be that bad."</p><p>"If Father wants me to marry Robb, he should be talking to Lord Stark. What Robb or I want doesn't matter. No one ever married because they liked each other."</p><p>Cerys barked out a laugh. "You're too young to be so cynical."</p><p>"No, but I am too old to be lied to." She glared at Owen.</p><p>He chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, Riona," he sighed, putting an arm around her.</p><p>Caitriona smiled—grudgingly—and put her head on her eldest brother's shoulder. The hall seemed to slow, and she realized just how tired she was, barely stifling a yawn.</p><p>The three siblings watched as the other lords and ladies talked and laughed and danced. Luckily, their father was in a deep conversation with Lord Glover, rendering him too preoccupied to reprimand his children for not participating in the event.</p><p>After some time, she felt Cerys nudge her side, nodding in the direction of Robb. He was being egged on by the heir to the Iron Islands—Caitriona couldn't remember his first name—smiling and laughing as his friend pushed him towards her and her brothers.</p><p>Just what she needed.</p><p>"My lady," Robb said. He bowed, holding out a hand. "May I have this dance?"</p><p>It took all of her willpower not to scream at him to go away. Instead, she took a deep, steadying breath and replied, as politely as she could, "No, thank you, my lord."</p><p>Robb blanched at her for a split second, surprised at Caitriona's reaction. He recovered his composure quickly, though. She was impressed, in a bitter sort of way.</p><p>"It's not polite for a lady to refuse," he replied teasingly.</p><p>It seemed he thought they were playing some game where she pretended to be coy until eventually giving in and accepting his invitation.</p><p>The idea of <em>that</em> only worsened Caitriona's temper.</p><p>"Yes, well, it's not polite for a lady to step in horse shit either, but I'd honestly rather do that than dance again. Now, kindly, leave me <em>alone</em>," she snapped. It was said more loudly than she had intended. So loud that the entire room stared in her direction, completely silent, save for the musicians.</p><p>Caitriona heard Owen gasp, and Cerys try to cover his laugh with a cough. Her father had turned an intense shade of purple, which under different circumstances, she might have found quite funny. Lord Stark snorted in disbelief and possible amusement, his wife giving him a half-hearted disapproving glare. Robb blushed, and Caitriona felt her cheeks heating up as well.</p><p>She glanced over to where the brooding boy was standing. He had a slight smile on his face, but all it did was make her anger intensify. She had embarrassed herself in front of her liege lord and his entire family. Worse than that, she was going to be severely punished by her father.</p><p>And yet Eddard Stark's bastard found it funny. Gods, did she wish she had her daggers with her, just then.</p><p>Unfortunately, Caitriona wasn't able to stew on her fury for very long. Her father grabbed her arm so forcefully it hurt and dragged her out of the hall. She knew she was in for the whip, but if Caitriona was being honest, at this point a whipping was entirely worth it if it meant she didn't have to stay at the feast.</p><p>Or dance, ever again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think what this prologue establishes is that Caitriona desperately needs therapy. A lot of it.</p><p>Anyway, a few notes:</p><p>1. In the books, Norrey is actually a northern family that resides in the mountains just south of The Gift. They aren't a house—they're a clan. But since the tv show doesn't ever mention the Norrey Clan or really mention the difference between clans and houses in the North, I figured I'd just use the name (because I was too lazy to come up with my own) and make them an actual house with my characters. Hey, if the show can change aspects of the book lore, then so can I.</p><p>2. Caitriona is not a name used in the lore of ASOIAF or the TV show. It's a Scottish name. I had originally meant just to use it and the associated nickname(s) as placeholders, but now I'm so attached to them that when I change it to something more lore-friendly, it feels wrong. Sorry, guys. You're just going to have to live with the not-so-lore-friendly name.</p><p>3. In the same vein, Rendon isn't actually a lore-friendly name either. In the books, the patriarch of Clan Norrey is named Brandon. The problem is that there are already just so many Brandons in the lore, so I had to change it from Brandon to Rendon to keep myself from getting confused. If you've ever played a little game known as Dragon Age: Origins, you'll hopefully recognize it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Watch's Newest Recruit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While the idea of hiding amongst rapists and murderers put a queasy feeling in Caitriona's stomach, it still seemed better than the alternative.</p><p>Owen and Cerys had promised her that once her dark brown hair had been sloppily cut to her shoulders and she changed from her dresses to a plain, shabby, oversized tunic, that no one would look twice at her. So far, they had been correct—no one paid her any attention, save for the black brother escorting the recruits, who shot her pitying glances every so often.</p><p>She supposed she must look like a very underfed street urchin—small and extremely scrawny, compared to the rest of the men. But he didn't seem to suspect anything, and so Caitriona tried to calm herself, repeating the mantra that she was safe, at least for the moment.</p><p>The ride to Castle Black was slow and boring, so Caitriona tried to pass the time by imagining her brothers' comments as they passed certain milestones. If Cerys were there, he would have made a crass comment about the Mole's Town brothel. Owen would have scoffed disapprovingly and then informed Caitriona about the history of The Gift. Meanwhile, Arthur would chime in with extra, obscure facts he had gleaned from hours of reading every book in Norwood's library.</p><p>Caitriona sighed. She already missed them terribly, and she had only left a week earlier.</p><p>Putting the depressing thoughts aside, Caitriona looked at her surroundings as they approached the Wall, her heart nearly stopping as it came into clear view. It was larger than she could have ever imagined—making the keep where she'd grown up seem minuscule by comparison. Even Winterfell—the largest castle she had ever seen—looked comparatively tiny to the Wall.</p><p>The ice gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, giving it the look of a freshly cut diamond, and Caitriona couldn't believe she'd gone fourteen years without knowing how beautiful it truly was. The Night's Watchmen, who had occasionally passed through Norwood—and been constantly pestered by her—hadn't been able to describe it with justice.</p><p>"Amazing, innit?" Caitriona jumped, remembering she wasn't alone.</p><p>She turned to look at the brother who had spoken and nodded. "It's incredible."</p><p>"Just wait until you get up top."</p><p>Caitriona broke into a smile, forgetting her circumstances for a moment. "Recruits can go up?" she asked.</p><p>The man nodded. "Aye. I don't think I've seen anyone quite so excited as you, though. But I guess can't blame 'em, since we throw the mouthy ones off the top." He laughed when he saw her stricken face.</p><p>Once she realized he wasn't serious, Caitriona laughed along with him. It <em>was</em> a pretty good joke.</p><p>"What's yer name?" he asked.</p><p>She thought for a moment before answering. Her brothers had told her not to pick something too different from her given name—she needed to be able to remember and respond to it quickly—and truthfully, Caitriona had no wish to take a boy's name. Her recruitment into the Night's Watch was one of necessity, not because of a desire to give up who she was.</p><p>So, she thought, what would a name that wasn't particularly feminine but also didn't make her feel entirely stripped of her identity?</p><p>"Caitie," she told him, finally. The name rolled off her tongue more easily than she would have expected. In fact, it almost sounded better than Caitriona. She'd never really liked the mouthful that was her given name. Of course, the "ie" was a dead giveaway of a girl's name, but Caitriona doubted anyone at Castle Black would ask her to write her name. And she wanted to keep a piece of herself, even if no one else knew it.</p><p>The black brother broke her out of her thoughts, giving her a toothless grin. "Welcome to the Night's Watch, Caitie."</p><hr/><p>Caitriona—Caitie—along with the others who had arrived, were brought quickly into Castle Black and given a long and boring speech informing them of what it meant to become a Man of the Night's Watch. She only half-listened, as she already knew most of it: once one took their vows, they were sworn for life, and attempting to leave without permission or fathering children both resulted in a beheading.</p><p>It struck Caitriona that there wasn't much of a way for the lord commander to know if his men had fathered children, making the rule seem—to her, at least—rather pointless. She couldn't help but imagine the very serious Lord Commander Mormont annually visiting the brothel to meticulously look for bastard children resembling his men. The idea was quite funny.</p><p>It made his boring speech much less tedious to get through, anyhow.</p><p>When that was done, she and the others were sent down to the master-at-arms to start sparring.</p><p>One of the black brothers who'd passed through Norwood when Caitriona was very little had told her that most who joined the Night's Watch didn't know the pommel of a sword to the pointy end. From what she'd seen so far, he had been right. Caitie wasn't sure what to make of it, though.</p><p>On the one hand, she had been trained by Owen and Cerys, much to her father and septa's displeasure, from the time she was six years old. It was mildly amusing to know that she could beat most if not all of these recruits.</p><p>On the other hand, however, it would most likely bring unwanted attention. So, despite the damage to her ego, Caitie fully intended to play inept.</p><p>As she reached the courtyard, Caitriona immediately noticed a boy of about sixteen with dark curly hair and a brooding, angry look in his eyes. It took her a moment to remember where exactly she had seen him, but when she did, she nearly fainted.</p><p>Eddard Stark's bastard son: Jon Snow.</p><p>What the hell was he doing here? The last thing Caitie had heard before leaving home was his father's acceptance of King Robert's offer—the prestigious title of Hand of the King—but that was it. If the Bastard of Winterfell were leaving to join the Night's Watch, one would think it'd reach Norwood, especially with his uncle being the First Ranger.</p><p>And yet, there Jon Snow stood.</p><p>Caitie hadn't seen him since Robb's fifteenth name day celebration, but he hadn't changed much—the only discernible difference was that he had grown a beard. She had thought him to be rather good looking the first time she saw him, but he had become truly handsome in the last two years.</p><p>Or, he would have been if he didn't seem so angry.</p><p>Caitie wasn't sure she could blame Jon for it, though. The master-at-arms—a man by the name of Ser Alliser Thorne—seemed intent on antagonizing him, taunting him relentlessly, referring to him only as "Lord Snow" or "Ned Stark's bastard." The lord commander, who now stood above the courtyard, speaking to someone she couldn't see as he watched them all, made no move to stop it.</p><p>Caitie had always disliked bullies, and Ser Alliser Thorne was no exception. She felt sorry for Jon, watching the scene play out in front of her. It must be so frustrating always to be reminded of his bastard status, especially in a place that was meant to accept all sorts, without judgment. But while she couldn't fault his stony expression, she got the feeling that Jon had a gigantic stick up his arse, and she didn't think she liked it.</p><p>Then Caitie remembered Jon smirking as she embarrassed herself in front of all the Lords and Ladies of the North. It did not improve her opinion of him.</p><p>She watched as, one by one, the Bastard of Winterfell defeated the men around him. By the glares on the men's faces, Caitie could tell that he was severely unpopular. She couldn't judge the others for feeling that way; it looked as if Jon had beaten them bloody.</p><p>One boy of about seventeen had had his nose broken. Blood gushed from it as he glared at Jon Snow even more angrily than the rest. But even with the glare and the nose-bleed, Caitie couldn't stop herself from thinking he was rather nice to look at.</p><p>She caught his eye barely a second later, but before either could acknowledge the other, Alliser Thorne spoke.</p><p>"You, boy," he snapped. Caitie looked around before realizing he was addressing her. "You have weapons?"</p><p>She nodded and pulled out her daggers. They weren't nearly as nice as her old ones—Dark and Sister, jokingly named for Visenya Targaryen's sword—but Owen had insisted the finery of her childhood daggers would stand out too much.</p><p>Thorne smiled, though it wasn't a smile Caitie would have considered to be kind. It reminded her of the Norwood Blacksmith's apprentice—the one who enjoyed torturing small animals. "Let us see how you fare against Lord Snow."</p><p>His small smile turned into a malicious grin, and he stepped out of the way.</p><p>Jon started to circle Caitie as she readied herself, praying to the Gods that he wouldn't realize who he was fighting. The incident she had caused at Winterfell had been memorable, but she hoped the fact that she looked completely different now would protect her. Maybe she'd get lucky.</p><p>And then Caitie noticed Jon's expression. He wore the same one from when he took down the other recruits: as if he was determined to make sure she would lose.</p><p>As if he knew for a fact that he was better than her.</p><p>The look brought out Caitie's competitiveness, and all thoughts of playing down her skills left her. She would be damned if she let him win.</p><p>The fight took a very long time, and by the end of it, she was sore and bruised. Jon Snow was good—better than good, truthfully. He was strong, and his technique was honed to near perfection. But, thankfully, he was also much slower than Caitie.</p><p>Owen had always instructed her to use a larger opponent's weight to her advantage. She was small and quick—something large men with even larger weapons had difficulty adapting to, and Jon was no exception.</p><p>Still, he did eventually get the better of Caitie, and the fight ended with the two of them holding their weapons at each other's throats.</p><p>Jon stared at her—a mixture of surprised and possibly a bit frustrated. But underneath it, she saw something else: recognition. Caitie pulled away immediately, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.</p><p>He knew her. He may not know why yet, but it was only a matter of time until he figured it out.</p><p>"It appears you're the two least useless people here," Thorne growled, interrupting Caitie's inner turmoil. "Go, clean yourselves up. There's only so much I can stomach in a day."</p><p>They all stalked off, Jon much more furiously than the rest.</p><p>Caitie ignored the other recruits, wanting to be alone. After a while, she managed to find a nice secluded spot, far away from the courtyard. She watched from a distance as the men went in and out of Castle Black for at least an hour, taking deep breaths and trying to calm her anxiety.</p><p>She was safe. No one suspected her, and her father would never think to look here. Just because Jon Snow had recognized her didn't mean he knew why.</p><p>"You're good."</p><p>Caitie looked up to see the man in question standing in front of her. It annoyed her to see that he was even more handsome up close. She nearly snapped at him to leave her alone but stopped short; there was no reason to offend him. Instead, she shrugged, attempting to project an aura of calm. "Had to survive somehow."</p><p>Jon looked uncomfortable at the comment but shook it off quickly. "Name's Jon," he said.</p><p>She narrowly avoided answering with, <em>I know</em>. Instead, she replied, "Caitie."</p><p>Jon stuck a hand out, and Caitriona accepted. She was about to say more, but then she noticed that he was staring intently; almost like he was looking for something.</p><p>"I know you," he said.</p><p>She felt as if her blood had turned to ice. "I don't think so."</p><p>"No…" He paused, thinking, before snapping his fingers. "You're Rendon Norrey's daughter—Caitriona!"</p><p>"You must be mistaken." Caitie tried to pitch her voice even lower than she had before, though she knew it was over.</p><p>Gods. It hadn't even been a single day—a single <em>hour—</em>and someone had already found her out. How had she failed so terribly in so little time?</p><p>"I'm not," Jon insisted. "I think I'd remember the lady who told my brother she'd rather step in horse shit than dance with him."</p><p>If Caitie weren't so terrified, she would have been embarrassed and irritated. She may even have lost her temper entirely and yelled at him. But then she noticed that Jon looked sort of amused. Not in a mean way, but as if he had found the incident genuinely funny.</p><p>It made her feel a little guilty as she briefly wondered what would happen if she attempted to kill him. Caitie doubted his uncle—the first ranger—would let it go unpunished. She'd probably be hanged or worse: found out and sent back to Norwood. Death was a better alternative to that.</p><p>And even if Caitie tried, Jon was her equal in combat, perhaps slightly better—much as she loathed to admit it—so the likelihood of her managing to kill him was slim, at best.</p><p>Well then, there was no hiding it now. She was out of options, out of time. Hopefully, if he found her outburst at Winterfell amusing rather than distasteful, perhaps he'd understand. "You can't tell anyone," she said, trying to impress upon him the urgency of her situation.</p><p>Jon shook his head, completely shocked. "What in Seven Hells are you doing pretending to be a Night's Watch recruit?"</p><p>"I'm not pretending. I am a Night's Watch recruit."</p><p>"You can't be. You're a girl."</p><p>"Nobody was supposed to know that. And besides," Caitie huffed in annoyance, "why shouldn't girls be allowed to protect their families from the Wildlings? Because of some stupid tradition?"</p><p>Yes, she decided, that sounded sufficiently convincing.</p><p>Jon had no good answer, so he said nothing, only staring at her with a bewildered expression.</p><p>Caitie sighed, deciding to take a different approach. "I have to be here. It's for my safety."</p><p>"Safety? Up here? With the rapists and murderers?"</p><p>"Well, they all think I'm a boy, so there's little danger there."</p><p>"But—"</p><p>"And need I remind you," she argued, cutting Jon off, "that I nearly beat you in combat? I can take care of myself better than most of the men here."</p><p>"My lady—"</p><p>"Don't call me that!" she hissed. "Please, I can't be found out. If I were, then I'd be returned to my father, and that's… I would rather die." A small part of Caitie considered telling him the truth of why she had left Norwood. But as soon as the thought popped into her head, she decided against it. Some things were better left unsaid.</p><p>Jon didn't move, didn't speak, only stared at her with his brow furrowed. She gave him a desperate look in the hopes he'd understand.</p><p>"I'll keep your secret," he finally said.</p><p>Caitie almost jumped up and down with relief. "Thank you."</p><p>For a brief moment, she wondered if he was lying, but Caitie didn't think so. Jon had Stark blood, and Starks were known for being straightforward.</p><p>She was about to walk away when he spoke again. "I meant what I said. You're good."</p><p>Caitie smiled and held out a hand. "Friends?"</p><p>Surprisingly, Jon nodded and accepted her gesture. He even smiled slightly.</p><p>"Friends."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you're enjoying yourselves so far. Feel free to comment and whatever else; it's always appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Meeting Samwell Tarly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being a recruit for the Night's Watch was a breath of fresh air Caitie never would have expected.</p><p>Back home, her brothers had restricted her to train at strange hours so no one would get suspicious and tell Lord Norrey. Sometimes she'd stay awake into the dead of night with Cerys, just so nobody close to their father would see her. At Castle Black, it was an entirely different story. She could train with her daggers all day and no one would get her into trouble—in fact, the Night's Watch expected her to do so.</p><p>So when Jon offered to help two other recruits in sword technique the next day and asked Caitie to help him, she was ecstatic for the chance to teach someone else the wonders of swordplay.</p><p>The first of the two was Grenn: the boy whose nose Jon had broken. How Jon stopped Grenn from killing him for it, Caitie would never know. Still, she wasn't about to complain, as Grenn was no less attractive up close: tall and strong, with light brown, curly hair cropped close to his head, and a red beard. He wasn't the quickest witted, but Caitie didn't mind, especially since he'd complimented her swordsmanship.</p><p>"First person to come close to beating Snow—that's impressive," he said upon meeting her properly in the courtyard, holding out a hand and grinning. Caitie took it, praying he didn't realize how small her hands were compared to his.</p><p>She definitely did.</p><p>The second recruit, Pyp, was a bit quieter, dark-haired, and scrawny like her—not much of a fighter, but he did well enough once she taught him to use daggers instead of longsword.</p><p>It was odd whenever they referred to her as a "he," but she figured it was a small price to pay to keep herself alive and safe.</p><p>It became Caitie's daily routine to help Jon train their friends in the courtyard as soon as she finished breakfast. Then, a few days after her arrival, Jon found her one evening, furious that his uncle had gone to scout north without him.</p><p>This led to her nightly routine at Castle Black.</p><p>"How could he?" Jon spat. "I'm just as good as any of his men—"</p><p>"You're not even a brother, yet," Caitie pointed out as they stood off to the side of the courtyard.</p><p>"I could have been if he'd just let me say my vows."</p><p>"You've been at Castle Black for two weeks. I don't think they'd let anyone take their vows that quickly."</p><p>Jon glared at her, but she had realized around the second day of knowing him that he always glared when he knew she was right.</p><p>Caitie sighed. She couldn't blame him—she knew in his position she would feel the same way. "You know what you need?"</p><p>"No, what?"</p><p>"Alcohol."</p><p>Jon raised an eyebrow. "Alcohol?" he repeated skeptically.</p><p>Caitie nodded and led him down to the kitchens—though not without some complaints. After grabbing them both cups, she found a relatively small pantry in the very back of the kitchens and distracted him with terrible ale and silly stories about her childhood—though she was careful not to mention anything about her father.</p><p>Soon enough, their nightly meetings had spiraled out of control—to the point where it felt as if Caitie spent more time in the pantry than anywhere else in Castle Black.</p><p>Jon told her of the time he'd dressed as a ghost to scare his siblings, which led to his favorite sister—Arya—punching him in the face, and of teaching her archery when no one was around. One night, after a few drinks, he even admitted to giving Arya a sword as a parting gift, which she'd named Needle.</p><p>Meanwhile, Caitie told him about the time she'd tricked Owen into giving her ten gigantic chocolate-chip cookies—her favorite dessert—by pretending she was sick. Another night, she told him about the first time Cerys had taken her into the training yard. Caitie recalled him telling her the sword was her enemy and gifting her a pair of daggers.</p><p>With Jon as a friend, she felt much less alone than she'd ever have expected at the Wall. It was a relief to have someone who knew her secret and would keep it.</p><p>There was also Jon's direwolf, Ghost.</p><p>The first time Caitie saw Ghost, she almost screamed. She was standing in a deserted hallway, all alone, carrying a deer bone to the kitchens for the First Steward, Bowen Marsh, when a large, snow-white, red-eyed direwolf advanced on her.</p><p>After she screamed like the Seven Hells were swallowing her up, she tossed him the deer bone, hoping he'd take it and go—preferably without killing her.</p><p>"Seven Hells, Caitie." Jon popped his head out from around the corner. "Scream like that and everyone will know about you."</p><p>Caitie scoffed, ignoring him. "Do you not see the direwolf almost as tall as a pony with demon eyes coming towards me?"</p><p>Jon laughed, causing Caitie's temper to flare. "You're <em>laughing</em>?"</p><p>"Oh, calm down," he said. "This is my direwolf, Ghost. He won't hurt you."</p><p>Caitie eyed the direwolf skeptically. Sure enough, now that he was in his master's presence, Ghost seemed much less menacing. The direwolf padded over to her, carrying the deer bone in his mouth, and dropped it at her feet.</p><p>"Um, thank you," she said. "You can, uh, keep it."</p><p>Ghost seemed to understand. He peered up at her with his big, blood-red puppy eyes, licked her hand, and allowed her to scratch behind his ear. The fear she had left melted away.</p><p>In the weeks that followed, Jon said that Ghost was much friendlier to Caitie than any of the other recruits at Castle Black. He always insisted it was because she was a fellow Northerner, while Caitie was pretty sure it was the deer bone she'd given him.</p><p>"He's a good boy," she assured her friend one evening while they sat in the dining hall after supper, stroking the direwolf's head. "As long as he has food."</p><p>"He's growing," Jon replied. "He used to be the runt of the litter. My siblings' direwolves were always bigger."</p><p>"Well, I suppose I can't deny him, then, can I?" She tossed Ghost a bit of chicken. "He has to grow up to be a big, scary, direwolf, doesn't he?"</p><p>When Ghost barked in agreement with her, Jon bent down and, with a completely straight face, muttered, "Go for Ser Alliser first, when you do."</p><p>Caitie burst into laughter. She had never heard Jon make a joke before.</p><p>He held out for a few seconds before he gave up and joined in. And as they sat there, roaring with laughter, Caitie decided that as far as hiding in the Night's Watch went, it could have been much, much worse.</p><p>Of course, things couldn't stay calm for very long.</p><hr/><p>The trouble began in the courtyard while she and Jon were giving their two friends sword lessons. Jon was teaching Grenn to pivot, but Grenn had lost concentration, his gaze moving to something behind them.</p><p>"What in the Seven Hells is that?" he exclaimed.</p><p>The "that" in question turned out to be a boy larger than a cauldron with the expression of a hunted deer. He was being led to the sparring area by Thorne, who looked even more unhappy than usual.</p><p>Pyp glanced over and snorted. "They'll need an eighth hell to fit him in."</p><p>The comment prompted Caitie to whack him.</p><p>"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the part of his arm where she'd struck. "What was that for?"</p><p>"When someone near you has a weapon," she said, "don't get distracted."</p><p>Pyp didn't have time to reply, because Ser Alliser joined their little party, glaring at the newcomer as if he was a filthy piece of trash. "Tell them your name."</p><p>The boy looked around nervously. "Samwell Tarly," he said, "of Horn Hill." Samwell paused, taking in the group, and then said, all in one breath, "I mean, I was of Horn Hill, but I've come to take the black."</p><p>His name struck Caitie as familiar. Randyll Tarly, she knew—it was impossible not to know about the only man to have defeated Robert Baratheon's army on the battlefield. But she quickly remembered why <em>Samwell's </em>name sounded so familiar: her father had briefly mentioned him about a year ago as a possible option for marriage. At the time, she hadn't known why nothing ever came of it; but now, looking at the boy in question, she had an inkling.</p><p>Her thoughts were interrupted by a recruit named Rast—one of the most horrible people she'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. According to Jon, Rast had gotten caught as a rapist in King's Landing—which already predisposed Caitie to hate him. But he was also one of the worst bullies she had ever met. He'd teased her about her scrawniness at least five times in the last two weeks.</p><p>If only he knew <em>why </em>she was so scrawny. Lucky for her, Rast was also a complete and utter moron.</p><p>He smiled cruelly and sniggered at Samwell Tarly. "Come to take the black pudding."</p><p>Thorne ignored the rude comment. "Well, you can't be any worse than you look. Rast, see what he can do."</p><p>As the two positioned themselves, the memory of Arthur's first sparring lesson sprung to mind. Samwell Tarly had the exact same look of fear and ineptitude as Caitie's younger brother did when they'd put a sword in his hands.</p><p>This was not going to end well.</p><p>She was proven correct when Rast forced him on the ground, making him yield within seconds. It should have been the end of things, but an aggravated Thorne told Rast to disregard Samwell's yield.</p><p>Caitie clenched her fists. Part of her wanted to step in and scream at Thorne and Rast to stop. Samwell had done nothing to them. What was the point of treating him so cruelly?</p><p>Oh, they were terrible people. She'd nearly forgotten that.</p><p>But even though she wanted to stop them, the fear of making an unnecessary scene that could draw unwanted attention kept her from interceding.</p><p>While Caitie was pretty sure her reservations were valid, she still felt like a rotten person.</p><p>She silently thanked the Gods when Jon looked as if he was going to step in, but Pyp, for some unfathomable reason, grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to stop him.</p><p>Caitie may have liked Pyp, but it didn't stop her from sending him the most deadly glare she could muster—reminding her of the ones her mother used to give Cerys when she had caught him doing something mischievous.</p><p>Pyp's eyes widened, and he removed his hand from Jon's arm.</p><p>"Enough!" Jon shouted. "He yielded."</p><p>Caitie wished for Thorne to allow it, but, of course, it was too much to ask.</p><p>He gave Jon a taunting smile. "Looks like the bastard's in love. All right then, Lord Snow, you wish to defend your lady love, let's make it an exercise. You," he pointed towards Caitie, Pyp, Grenn, and Rast. "Four of you ought to be sufficient to make lady piggy squeal. All you've got to do is get past the bastard."</p><p>Caitie took a deep breath and stood her ground, refusing to move. She would not hurt Samwell, no matter how scared of discovery she was.</p><p>"Is there a problem?" Thorne asked, his voice more vicious than Caitie had ever heard it.</p><p>"I won't do it."</p><p>He stared at her, daring her to continue, but she said nothing, only moving closer to Jon and taking a defensive stance.</p><p>Jon nodded solemnly to her and turned to Grenn. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.</p><p>"No."</p><p>Caitie almost beamed, but she changed her mind when she realized he still intended to obey Thorne's command.</p><p>Pyp, Rast, and Grenn attacked. Caitie stood in front of Sam, waiting for someone to lunge at him, but Jon defeated them so quickly that no one even came close. By the end of it, only Grenn was left standing. He yielded as soon as Jon struck at him again.</p><p>Well, maybe he was smarter than Caitie had initially thought.</p><p>Once it was over, she looked back over to Thorne. The expression on his face made the Wall look warm by comparison. "We're done for today," he said, scowling at Jon. "Go clean the armory. That's all you're good for."</p><p>The master-at-arms turned swiftly and marched away.</p><p>"What an ass," Caitie said to Jon, who looked apoplectic. "I always knew the Night's Watch was a haven for the worst people in Westeros, but that man…"</p><p>"Is the biggest piece of shit in the Seven Kingdoms?" Grenn supplied.</p><p>She thought of her father and the man he'd expected her to marry. "Almost."</p><p>Sensing that she wasn't willing to elaborate, Jon, Grenn, and Pyp turned to Samwell. Caitie stood back and observed the newcomer as the group conversed.</p><p>"Did he hurt you?" Samwell asked, looking towards Jon.</p><p>"I've had worse."</p><p>He nodded timidly, trying to muster the courage to speak. "You can call me Sam… if you want. My mother calls me Sam—"</p><p>Jon cut him off. "It's not going to get any easier, you know? You're going to have to defend yourself."</p><p>"Why didn't you get up and fight?" Grenn asked.</p><p>"I wanted to. I just couldn't."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>Sam bowed his head in shame. "I'm a coward. My father always says so."</p><p>Gods, he was reminding her more and more of Arthur every time he spoke. Caitriona's father had even said something similar to her little brother once. But at least Arthur had a reprieve most of the time. Rendon never had the desire to actively take part in his children's lives, and so all of them had been largely able to do what they wished, as long as they behaved when he was present. As long as they deferred to his control.</p><p>Samwell Tarly apparently hadn't had the same luck.</p><p>"The Wall's no place for cowards," Jon told him.</p><p>"You're right. I'm sorry." He looked between Jon and Caitie with the kindest smile she'd ever seen. "I just… wanted to thank you. Both of you."</p><p>Caitie smiled back at him. "It was no trouble."</p><p>Sam shot her a relieved glance, nodded at all of them one more time, picked up his sword, and left.</p><p>Grenn scoffed as soon as he was gone. "A bloody coward." He shook his head in frustration. "People saw us talking to him. Now they'll think we're cowards too!"</p><p>Losing her patience, Caitie crossed her arms and scowled. "Oh, would you just shut up already? No one cares who you've spoken with."</p><p>It came out more snappish than planned. Grenn stared at her, mouth agape. She couldn't blame him; he had never seen her angry before.</p><p>Pyp laughed. "You're too stupid to be a coward, anyway."</p><p>His comment overshadowed the shock Grenn had at Caitie's outburst. He turned to the smaller man. "<em>You're</em> too stupid to be a—"</p><p>"Quick now, before summer's over."</p><p>Grenn rushed at Pyp, and the two ran off. As soon as they were gone, Caitie grabbed Jon's arm. She dragged him to a small alcove far enough away so that they wouldn't be overheard.</p><p>"Caitie, what—"</p><p>"We have to protect him," she said, cutting Jon off.</p><p>He stared at her blankly for a moment before answering. "What?"</p><p>"Samwell Tarly. We have to protect him."</p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p>"Oh, keep up!" Caitie started to pace. "He'll get eaten alive by Rast and his lot if we don't do something."</p><p>Jon sighed. "I know."</p><p>"So then we have to stop them. Force them to leave him alone… or something." Caitie wasn't sure how, exactly, to force Rast to leave Sam alone, but she figured it was a problem for later.</p><p>Jon gave her an odd look. "Ah. This is personal for you, isn't it?"</p><p>"And here I thought you weren't observant."</p><p>His eyes widened, startled by her complete meanness, and Caitie immediately felt bad. She didn't intend to be so punchy.</p><p>"I'm sorry. It's just that… " she searched for the right words. After a moment, she decided to start at the beginning. "You have to understand; combat isn't my youngest brother's strong suit. My older brothers started swordplay by the time they were three, and I started when I was six. But Arthur, he's eight now, and unless something changed in the weeks since I've left, putting even a practice sword in his hand terrifies him."</p><p>She hesitated, remembering the first time Owen had brought Arthur down to the practice dummies. "He would get this look on his face, exactly like Sam's: pure dread. My father reacted to it... poorly." Jon stared oddly at Caitie as if he wasn't quite sure where she was taking her story. "When I looked at Sam, I saw Arthur. I can't protect my brother anymore—it's up to Owen and Cerys, now. But I can protect Sam. I have to try, at least."</p><p>"If he can't defend himself, then—"</p><p>"Then what?" she asked, her temper rising again. "He's <em>terrified</em>. You think he came to the Wall by his own choice?"</p><p>Jon shook his head, and Caitie could tell he thought she was reading too much into the situation. "Why else would he? He's the son of a lord."</p><p>Caitie, as much as she wanted to, couldn't argue with his logic. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe you should ask him." She motioned to the tunnel through which Sam had disappeared.</p><p>Jon looked exasperatedly between it and her. He shook his head again as if he thought Caitie was being preposterous. "I'm going to the dining hall."</p><p>Caitie sneered. "Fine."</p><p>And with that, she stalked off as dramatically as she could.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A New Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caitie had thought Jon would ignore their entire conversation, but she was happily proven wrong the next morning when he found her, Pyp, and Grenn in the dining hall.</p><p>Pyp looked up from his food. "Where've you been?"</p><p>"Watch duty," Jon answered, sitting down beside Caitie, "with Sam."</p><p>"Ah, Prince Porkchop!"</p><p>"Pyp," she warned. This new side of his humor—the cruelty of it—didn't sit well with her.</p><p>He rolled his eyes and ignored her, turning back to Jon. "Where is he?"</p><p>"He wasn't hungry."</p><p>"Impossible!"</p><p>"That's enough," Jon snapped.</p><p>He threw Caitie an apologetic look, which she took as him admitting she was right.</p><p>"Sam's no different from the rest of us," he said. "There was no place for him in the world, so he's come here."</p><p>It took so much effort not to jump up and down on the table and sing, "I told you so!" While she managed not to, she still couldn't stop herself from smirking.</p><p>"We're not going to hurt him in the training yard anymore. Never again, no matter what Thorne says. He's our brother now, and we're going to protect him." Grenn and Pyp, while skeptical, seemed to accept his words.</p><p>It was unfortunate, then, that Rast had overheard the speech. "You<em> are</em> in love, Lord Snow." As the others at Rast's table laughed, he spun around on the bench to face Caitie and Jon's table. "You girls can do as you please."</p><p>Caitriona had to bite back a snort—the irony was particularly amusing to her—but it died as Rast continued.</p><p>"But if Thorne puts me up against Lady Piggy, I'm gonna slice me off a side of bacon."</p><p>Jon scowled, refusing to give in to the taunt. Caitie only clutched her fork tighter.</p><p>After a minute or so, Jon stood up, looked towards the door in a gesture for his friends to follow, and walked out of the hall. They joined him soon after.</p><p>When all four of them were outside, Jon spoke. "We'll have to do something about him."</p><p>Caitie nodded in agreement. "Do you have a plan?"</p><p>"I might. We're going to convince him—really convince him."</p><p>Before he could continue, Grenn groaned. "Seven Hells, I can't believe I'm doing this."</p><p>"Well, unfortunately for you, you've been conscripted," Caitie said, crossing her arms and glaring. When Grenn looked confused, she added, "It means that you're going to help."</p><p>He peered down at her, and Caitie remembered that she was nearly a foot shorter than him. It took all of her courage, but she stood her ground and refused to break eye contact, daring him to challenge her.</p><p>He didn't.</p><p>Instead, Grenn gave her a lopsided smile and said, "Okay. I'm in."</p><p>Caitie stared at him for a moment. She had fully expected him to respond differently—most likely with anger.</p><p>The fact that he hadn't was... interesting.</p><p>She stopped the train of thought immediately. She was getting distracted.</p><p>"Are you ready?" Jon asked.</p><p>The rest of them nodded, and they listened as he told them of his plan to protect the newest member of the Night's Watch.</p><hr/><p>The recruits' quarters were silent, save for the soft footsteps of Jon, Caitie, Pyp, Grenn, and Ghost. The four of them and the ever-growing direwolf tiptoed their way through the room full of sleeping Night's Watch recruits to their destination—the cot where Rast slept. His mouth was askew as he snored, sleeping peacefully.</p><p>It didn't last long.</p><p>From behind, Jon pressed a piece of rope into Rast's mouth so he couldn't scream. He woke, gasping for breath, until he noticed the direwolf standing on top of him. Ghost growled ferociously; his red eyes bored into Rast's as he bared his teeth, while Jon threatened him, almost as ferocious as the Ghost, himself.</p><p>"No one touches Sam."</p><p>Rast was so petrified as they stood, letting the threat sink in, that Caitie was sure he wouldn't even look Sam in the eye tomorrow, let alone try to hurt him. In fact, if Rast ever spoke a word to any of them ever again, it would be a surprise.</p><p>Such a lovely thought.</p><p>After they finished the job and dispersed for the night, Caitie went down to the pantry. She poured herself a cup of tea, in a better mood than she'd been in weeks. A few hours later, Jon found her.</p><p>"I thought you'd be asleep," he said.</p><p>Caitie turned to look at him and shrugged. "I wasn't able to."</p><p>The truth was, she hadn't been sleeping well since her arrival at Castle Black. Even with her new friends, the stress of her current predicament had set her on perpetual edge, keeping her awake until her body gave out and collapsed.</p><p>Well, other than tonight. Tonight, Caitie was celebrating.</p><p>"Me neither." Jon sat down across from her and gestured towards the cup in her hand.</p><p>"It's only tea," she told him. "I couldn't bring myself to drink the ale tonight."</p><p>Jon snorted. "Can't blame you."</p><p>"I don't think anyone who's tasted Night's Watch ale could."</p><p>The two fell into a companionable silence as Jon got himself some ale, sat back down, and took a large gulp of it.</p><p>"I meant to tell you," he said after a few minutes, "you were right about Sam."</p><p>Caitie grinned triumphantly—she was always in the mood to be right. "Oh, I know."</p><p>Jon rolled his eyes. "You could try to be modest."</p><p>"At least I resisted the urge to dance on top of the dining hall table singing 'I told you so' over and over."</p><p>"You weren't really thinking of doing that, were you?" he asked skeptically.</p><p>Caitie sighed. "No—not seriously, at least. But could you imagine the look on Thorne's face if I had? I think that vein in his forehead would finally pop and kill him."</p><p>"Seven Hells, that would be nice," he agreed.</p><p>She took another sip of her tea. "I may have considered it if I weren't so afraid of drawing unnecessary attention. Or if I were drunk. I don't think I've ever been quite <em>that </em>drunk, before, though. And I don't think I could stomach enough of the ale here, even if I wanted to get that drunk. Nobody lets a lady drink enough alcohol to develop a taste for it."</p><p>At her rather rambling statement, Jon became quiet, thinking. "Can I ask you something?"</p><p>Caitie's good mood faded. She nodded, although she was near-certain she wouldn't like the question.</p><p>Jon proved her correct when he asked, "What are you doing here?"</p><p>Well, Caitie had known he would want answers, eventually.</p><p>"It's…" she paused, "complicated."</p><p>Jon furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her curiously. For a moment, Caitie considered refusing to say any more. But Jon had kept her secret; he had allowed Ghost to stand guard when she needed privacy; and the truth was, he had become her friend—her first real friend.</p><p>If those things weren't enough to prove him trustworthy, then nothing would be.</p><p>Caitie picked up a stray leaf that someone had tracked in and started twirling it between her fingers—thinking about how to start. "Being a lady," she said carefully, "the only worth you have is the alliances you can create for your family through marriage. It's all my father thought I was good for. To him, I wasn't his daughter; I was only an opportunity."</p><p>She tried to stop there but found she couldn't. The words kept coming. "He didn't care about me," she went on. "He didn't even bother to <em>know </em>me. He wanted a daughter who was demure and obedient and who would marry whoever he told her to, no matter how terrible—and I wouldn't."</p><p>"Wait, you were to be married?" Jon asked, surprised.</p><p>Caitie pursed her lips and cursed herself for admitting too much. Nevertheless, she answered honestly. "Yes, I was."</p><p>"And you didn't want to?"</p><p>She almost laughed. Such a simple way to put an emotion felt so intensely. "The morning my father told me of my betrothal was every nightmare I'd ever had, come to life in the worst way possible," she said.</p><p>Jon's mouth parted, as though he was trying not to gape. He opened it and closed it again twice before she continued onward, ignoring his look of surprise.</p><p>"I don't like to think about the details, but... the lord I was supposed to marry was a monster. And my father <em>knew. </em>He knew exactly what was in store for me if I were to marry him, and he still agreed to it. He didn't care what happened to me, as long as he benefited. My whole life has been like that—whatever he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, and Gods help you if you pushed back or failed." She said this in a rush, as though it was being physically pushed out of her.</p><p>"He was that bad?" Jon asked.</p><p>"Who? My father or my betrothed?"</p><p>He thought for a moment. "Both."</p><p>"My betrothed, yes. He was beyond terrible, and I'm being generous with my description. But my father?" She thought about it. "I'm not sure. Not always, I don't think. He was always distant—but he wasn't such a bully when I was little. My mother knew how to temper him. She died, though, birthing my younger brother when I was six. I think, when it happened, any part of my father that was good, died too." Caitie sighed. "Or maybe he was always a thoroughly unpleasant person, and I just was too young to realize. I don't know. If Owen and Cerys did, they never told me."</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>She shrugged, trying to play down the hurt her father had caused. If she didn't, she might tell Jon everything, and Caitie wasn't ready for that. She'd already said far too much as it was. "I had my brothers. They loved me. And anyway, I'm sure your childhood couldn't have been easy either."</p><p>"No, I can't say it was," Jon said, barking out an ironic laugh.</p><p>Caitie was about to ask for more details when they heard a crash come from the other side of the kitchens. The two of them eyed each other nervously. She stood up, her heart pounding, and pulled out her daggers, while Jon drew his sword. Slowly and carefully, they moved towards the source of the noise.</p><p>It was Sam.</p><p>He stood, paralyzed, next to a pot that had fallen onto the floor.</p><p>"Sam?" Jon asked. He put his sword away, but Caitie refused to do the same for her weapons.</p><p>"How much did you hear?" When Sam said nothing, only stared, wide-eyed, at her daggers, she growled fiercely, "How much?"</p><p>However much she may have felt a protective instinct towards Sam, the thought of all those rapists finding out about her outweighed it.</p><p>"Caitie, stop." Jon put a hand on one of her daggers' hilts, trying to force her to lower her weapons.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Sam squeaked.</p><p>He sounded so scared—like Arthur when their father was about to go into a rage. Caitie never wanted someone to feel that way because of her. Reluctantly, she relaxed her stance.</p><p>"I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just was looking for Jon, and I saw him leave his quarters and followed him here." He paused, gathering his courage, and asked, "Are you really a girl?"</p><p>Silence. And then, "Please don't tell anyone," Caitie found herself begging, giving him a look of utter distress.</p><p>"How—how is that possible?"</p><p>Caitie and Jon exchanged glances. "He's trustworthy."</p><p>She hesitated, almost refusing, but Caitie had just admitted to trusting Jon, and if he trusted Sam, well, the damage was already done. What was the harm now?</p><p>She closed her eyes and nodded to Jon, who ushered Sam over to the pantry. "Come on."</p><p>Caitie had picked the pantry out as a hiding spot because—ignoring that it was close to the ale—it was tucked away in a far corner of the kitchens. No one ever went in there at night. But that didn't matter if she and Jon could be overheard from far away. "I need to be more careful," she said as she followed them.</p><p>"I'll have Ghost stand guard from now on."</p><p>"If others can listen in on us..."</p><p>"He'll be able to warn us should anyone try."</p><p>"I have excellent hearing if it makes you feel better," Sam added uncertainly.</p><p>Caitie almost laughed as the three sat on the pantry floor, an unspoken agreement passing between them to speak in a whisper.</p><p>Sam looked down awkwardly. "I'm sorry about your father."</p><p>She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course you heard that."</p><p>"I think I heard most of it. I'm so sorry."</p><p>Caitie tried to take a deep, steadying breath to get a handle on her fear. What came out was a humorless chuckle. "Gods, I'm doing a miserable job of keeping this to myself."</p><p>"I would never tell anyone. I know what it's like to have a father who's cruel."</p><p>She stopped for a moment. "You do?"</p><p>He nodded and, after exchanging a look with Jon, told her the tale of how he came to be a Night's Watch recruit.</p><p>"On the morning of my eighteenth nameday," Sam started, taking a deep breath, "my father came to me. 'You're almost a man, now,' he said. 'But you're not worthy of my land and titles. Tomorrow, you're going to take the black, forsake all claim to your inheritance, and start north.'" He took a second, shuddering breath. "'If you do not,' he said, 'then we'll have a hunt.'"</p><p>Caitie's fists clenched as she realized where Sam was taking his story.</p><p>"'And somewhere in these woods, your horse will stumble, and you'll be thrown from your saddle to die. Or so I'll tell your mother. Nothing would please me more.' So, that day, I left, and came here."</p><p>Although she should have guessed from his comment earlier that day, his story shocked her. Even her father had never threatened to kill his children so brutally. Well, at least not <em>blatantly</em>. He would insinuate and punish, and then claim it was all in his childrens' heads, or that he was doing it to help them.</p><p>By the time Sam finished, Caitie's jaw had dropped, and she felt the intense urge to find and kill Randyll Tarly in the most painful manner she could think up.</p><p>Of course, it wasn't an option, and so Caitie had to swallow the spitting rage rising in her chest. "Gods, that's evil. That's worse than evil. I'm... I'd say I was sorry, but I don't think it would suffice."</p><p>Sam looked down, miserably. Suddenly, she had the desire to hug him.</p><p>Caitie resisted, but only barely. Instead, she pulled herself together and said, "Well, at least we'll be able to commiserate with each other." The comment managed to get a weak smile from Sam, and she continued, unable to stop herself from asking. "You'll keep my secret? Truly?"</p><p>"Of course I will," Sam replied, brightening. "We're friends now, aren't we?"</p><p>"We are?"</p><p>"Yes!" Sam laughed. "I told you about my terrible father, and you told me about yours, in a manner of speaking. And you protected me from Rast and Ser Alliser. I think that's as good a basis for friendship as any."</p><p>"Well, Jon did, too." She couldn't help but beam, looking between her two new friends. "So I suppose it's the three of us?"</p><p>"Aye," Jon agreed. As he did, Caitie realized something: for the first time since she'd arrived at Castle Black, she felt truly at home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sex Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caitie was pleased to find that Jon's plan worked.</p><p>Rast had refused to injure Sam during training, despite Thorne telling him to do so. He'd barely tapped Sam with his sword before yielding to him.</p><p>Grenn, meanwhile, had made a show of being "beaten" by him, winking at Caitie as he pretended to fall and shouting, "I yield," over and over. She couldn't help but smile a bit whenever she thought of it.</p><p>No one else had been brave enough to touch the newcomer.</p><p>Thorne had been—well, angry was an understatement. But there was little he could do beyond glaring and yelling. The most he did was grab Jon's collar. Honestly, he was no scarier than Caitie's father.</p><p>For his part, Sam had thanked her and Jon at least once every day. Whenever he did, Caitie had smiled and reminded him it was nothing, and Jon's brooding stare became a little less potent. They liked Sam so much; he'd begun joining them for drinks in the pantry regularly, happy to tell them what it was like growing up in the south.</p><p>The two Northerners had a good laugh when he admitted he'd never seen snow before coming to the Wall. Caitie wondered what it must have been like to grow up where it never snowed. She couldn't imagine it.</p><p>But although Sam told them loads about his mother and even a bit about his siblings in his stories about Horn Hill, he never mentioned his father; not that Caitie couldn't blame him. She disliked talking about her father just as much.</p><p>Finally, a few weeks later, Owen and Cerys sent her a letter, and as a belated thank you, Sam insisted he would take care of cleaning the dining hall tables so she could read it.</p><p>Caitie had thanked him profusely, promised to do the same whenever he had letters of his own, and sat herself down next to Jon, eagerly opening the scroll.</p><p>It took her a while to decode it, but when she did, she was sad to find her brothers had little to report. Arthur still cried whenever they gave him a weapon, Cerys had only gone to the brothel three times that week instead of his usual five, and Owen had finally agreed to marry some Dornish lord's daughter when she came of age.</p><p>While it was an uneventful letter, one piece of information did stand out: Rendon Norrey had sent men southeast to scour for his daughter, believing her to be somewhere around White Harbor.</p><p>An interesting development. Caitie wondered how her brothers had put that idea in their father's head. Either way, she wasn't about to complain.</p><p>It didn't take her very long to read the entirety of her letter, so she pocketed it and listened to the conversation between her two friends.</p><p>They were discussing… bedding women.</p><p>This wasn't a topic Caitie had much desire to think about, let alone discuss. From the way her brothers described sex, it sounded terribly painful. Even so, it wasn't as if Caitie would've been allowed to—as Sam put it—go down to the brothel and have a little "Sally on the side." She was a lady, and ladies had ridiculous expectations put upon them. Caitie doubted male whores existed anyway, rendering a brothel rather unappealing.</p><p>All in all, a very dull conversation. It didn't stop her from listening, though.</p><p>"I know for a fact that some of the officers go to that brothel in Mole's Town," Sam said.</p><p>Jon didn't take his eyes off the table he was scrubbing. "I wouldn't doubt it."</p><p>"Don't you think it's a little bit unfair? Making us take our vows while they sneak off for a little Sally on the side?"</p><p>Jon stared at him incredulously. "Sally on the side?"</p><p>Sam ignored it. "It's silly, isn't it? What—we can't defend the Wall unless we're celibate? It's absurd."</p><p>"I didn't think you'd be so upset about it."</p><p>Sam looked offended. "Why not? Because I'm fat?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"But I like girls just as much as you do." He bobbed his head from side to side as he admitted, "They might not like me as much."</p><p>"Don't worry, Sam," Caitie said, "they don't like me very much either."</p><p>He rolled his eyes. "Oh, funny."</p><p>She grinned. "I thought so."</p><p>"But..." Sam shifted, his awkwardness reappearing. "I've never... been with one," he admitted, looking back at Jon. "You've probably had hundreds."</p><p>Now Caitie found herself inclined to listen.</p><p>"No," Jon said. He stopped scrubbing the table and took a deep breath. "As a matter of fact, I'm the same as you."</p><p>Sam laughed. "Yeah, I find that hard to believe."</p><p>"I came very close once," Jon said. "I was alone in a room with a naked girl, but—" he stopped and shook his head, deciding not to continue.</p><p>"Didn't know where to put it?"</p><p>"I know where to put it."</p><p>Sam ignored Jon's haughty tone as he asked, "Was she old and ugly?"</p><p>"Young and gorgeous," Jon replied, sighing. "A whore named Ros."</p><p>Sam asked after Ros's looks, and Caitie started to feel bored again. She had no desire to hear about the oh-so young and gorgeous Ros, but she couldn't bring herself to stop listening to Jon as she stared down at her letter, pretending to be engrossed by it.</p><p>"What color hair?" Sam asked.</p><p>"Red."</p><p>"Oh, I like red hair."</p><p>Caitie barely concealed her eye-roll.</p><p>"And her—um... her..." He moved his hands over his chest.</p><p>Jon smirked. "You don't want to know."</p><p>"That good?"</p><p>"Better."</p><p>"Oh, no!" Sam laughed.</p><p>As he and Jon grinned at each other, Caitie crossed her arms. What was it about men and breasts?</p><p>Sam's smile faded. "So, why exactly did you not make love to Ros with the perfect...?"</p><p>"What's my name?" Jon asked.</p><p>"Jon Snow."</p><p>"And why is my surname Snow?"</p><p>"Because," Sam replied apprehensively, "you're a bastard from the North."</p><p>Jon stared down at the table, lost in thought. "I never met my mother. My father wouldn't even tell me her name. I don't know if she's living or dead. I don't know if she's a noblewoman or a fisherman's wife... or a whore." He glanced up at them. "So I sat there, in the brothel as Ros took off her clothes. But I couldn't do it. Because all I could think was: what if I got her pregnant, and she had a child? Another bastard named Snow."</p><p>Caitie watched him as he spoke. She had always known, from the moment she became friends with him, just how much Jon despised his bastard status. But she never understood its real implications until now—how it affected every choice he made—and she felt insensitive for complaining of her upbringing to him.</p><p>"It's not a good life for a child," he finished.</p><p>Caitie frowned sympathetically at her friend, even though she knew he probably wouldn't appreciate it. "I'm sorry," she said. "You deserved better." It didn't feel like enough, but she didn't know what else to say. She only knew it was what she'd want someone to say to her about her childhood.</p><p>Jon stared at her, surprised, and she gave him a small smile before Sam distracted him.</p><p>"So, you didn't know where to put it!"</p><p>Jon laughed and lunged at Sam playfully, bumping Caitie on his way, much harder than he intended.</p><p>"Ow!" She complained, kicking at his leg. "I take it back, you ass."</p><p>Jon continued to laugh at her and Sam as he went for the latter; however, it was cut short because, of course, that had to be the moment Ser Alliser Thorne came in.</p><p>"Enjoying yourselves?"</p><p>The laughter dissipated immediately.</p><p>He shut the door. "You look cold, boys."</p><p>"It is a bit nippy," Sam replied, as casually as he could.</p><p>"A bit nippy, yeah, by the fire, indoors. It's still summer." Thorne was glaring daggers at the three of them. "Do you boys even remember the last winter?"</p><p>Caitie didn't answer. What was the point? He didn't care. He just wanted to taunt them.</p><p>Jon, however, gave in to the temptation. "I remember."</p><p>"Was it uncomfortable at Winterfell? Were there days you just couldn't get warm, never mind how many fires your servants built?"</p><p>"I build my own fires."</p><p>"That's admirable," Thorne said sarcastically. "I spent six months out there, beyond the Wall during the last winter. It was supposed to be a two-week mission. We heard a rumor Mance Rayder was planning to attack Eastwatch. So we went out to look for some of his men—capture them, gather some knowledge. The Wildlings who fight for Mance Rayder are hard men."</p><p>He moved his gaze from Jon to Sam for a brief moment. "Harder than you'll ever be. They know their country better than we do. They knew there was a storm coming in."</p><p>Caitie could see where this speech was going, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the rest of it—not that she had much choice in the matter.</p><p>"So they hid in their caves and waited for it to pass. And we got caught out in the open." Thorne's voice was completely devoid of emotion. "Wind so strong, it yanked hundred-foot trees straight from the ground, roots and all. If you took your gloves off to find your cock to have a piss, you lost your finger to the frost. And all in darkness.</p><p>"You don't know cold," he ground out. "None of you do."</p><p>Thorne had made his point; he didn't need to continue. But he seemed to revel in scaring them. "The horses died first. We didn't have enough to feed them, to keep them warm. Eating the horses was easy. But later, when we started to fall…" he shook his head, "that wasn't easy."</p><p>Caitie's breath hitched in her throat. She'd heard horrible things that happened to men beyond the Wall. She'd heard of the Thenns who ate their brethren or victims of their raids.</p><p>But black brothers? That was new.</p><p>Thorne smiled maliciously at her. "Don't worry. You're too small to get a good meal from. We should have had a couple of boys like him, along, though, shouldn't we?" He walked past her, around the table, to Sam. "Soft, fat boys, like you. We'd have lasted a fortnight on you and still had bones left over for soup."</p><p>Caitie wanted to cry, to scream at Thorne to leave Sam alone, but the words wouldn't come. Nothing she could say would make him stop. And if none of them gave him the reaction he wanted, perhaps he'd leave.</p><p>"Soon, we'll have new recruits, and you lot will be passed along to the lord commander for assignment. And they will call you Men of the Night's Watch, but you'd be fools to believe it. You're boys, still. And come the winter, you will die… like flies."</p><p>No one said a word as Thorne swiftly turned on his heel and left. There was nothing any of them could say to remove the horrible images the master-at-arms had put into their minds.</p><p>But as Caitie looked between her two friends—Sam, who was shaking with fear, and Jon, who had a scowl so deep it probably would be permanent—she knew she had to try.</p><p>"Was there a point to that speech?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.</p><p>Jon said nothing, only glaring at the door, but Sam took a shaky breath. "M-maybe, he just wanted to scare us."</p><p>He didn't sound particularly convinced.</p><p>"Well," she said, "it worked."</p><p>No one answered, and they finished cleaning the dining hall tables in silence.</p><hr/><p>It wasn't until a long while later, after which every single one was spotless, that Sam shook his head and swallowed his fear.</p><p>"This is silly," he said. "I'll probably be a steward. No one is going to eat me."</p><p>Jon and Caitie exchanged uneasy glances.</p><p>"What? I'm just being optimistic."</p><p>Jon snorted. "Optimistic? Here?"</p><p>Sam ignored him. "So, what about you, Caitie?" he asked.</p><p>She tilted her head to the side. "What about me?"</p><p>"You know," he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you ever…?"</p><p>"Pfft. Of course not." She lowered her voice. "Ladies are expected to remain maids until marriage."</p><p>Despite trying to maintain his brooding demeanor, Jon couldn't keep his mouth shut at her words. "You don't seem like a typical lady."</p><p>"I can be." Both men looked at her skeptically. "I can!" Caitie insisted, crossing her arms.</p><p>"You told my brother you'd rather step in horse shit than dance with him."</p><p>Sam's eyes widened. "You didn't actually do that, did you?"</p><p>"Oh, she did."</p><p>"I'll admit, I wasn't at my best," Caitie said, feeling the need to defend herself. "But I had danced with three different lords' sons already. My feet were sore, and my patience had run thin. It didn't help that my father wanted me to marry Robb."</p><p>"He wanted you to marry Robb?" Jon asked. He sounded—Caitie wasn't quite sure how to describe it—startled, but also annoyed, and possibly resigned?</p><p>Well, it didn't matter.</p><p>"Oh, of course. And the idea of that makes my stomach turn to this very day."</p><p>"You didn't want to?"</p><p>She scoffed. "I could never want to marry anyone my father intended for me." Jon didn't seem able to think up a response to her statement, so Caitie ignored him and decided to answer the original question. "Anyway, I haven't been with anyone like that, Sam. I can't say I ever had a desire to, either."</p><p>It was Sam's turn to look surprised. "Really? Never?"</p><p>"It sounded uncomfortable and a little revolting."</p><p>Jon snorted. "I'd have never guessed you felt that way considering how you've been staring at Grenn."</p><p>Caitie's mouth fell open. "I—that's ridiculous—preposterous—I would never—ugh!"</p><p>Sam and Jon eyed each other knowingly before they dropped all pretense and laughed.</p><p>"I hate you both."</p><p>"It's obvious you like him," Sam said. "There's nothing wrong with it."</p><p>Caitie huffed, crossed her arms, and pouted. "It can't be obvious, because I don't. I mean, I do, but—oh, you know what I mean."</p><p>Of course, she may have noticed that Grenn was—perhaps not handsome, but strong-looking, and tall, and, well, other things. But she did not like him. At least, not any more than she liked Sam or Jon. How could she? Caitie rarely spoke with him outside of training, meals, or watch duty. And the one time she really <em>had</em> spoken with him, he'd lamented over helping Sam.</p><p>Even if she did find him... attractive, he could never know. She was not Caitriona anymore. She was Caitie: a recruit for the Night's Watch; a boy.</p><p>"Nothing could come of it, anyway."</p><p>"Hasn't stopped you from gaping at him," Jon said.</p><p>Gods, they were as awful as Cerys with the teasing.</p><p>"You may want to be nicer to me," Caitie said, trying to maneuver the conversation to something—anything—else. "As I know something you don't." She smiled mischievously at Jon. Neither of them realized how brutal she could be with teasing, and Caitie was not above using it to her advantage.</p><p>"What?" he asked suspiciously.</p><p>"And why should I tell you?"</p><p>Jon rolled his eyes.</p><p>"Fine, if you truly want to know," Caitie said, sighing dramatically. "There are ways of preventing pregnancy. If you like, I could tell you how, and then you could go down to Mole's Town for—what did you call it, Sam?"</p><p>"Some Sally on the side."</p><p>"Yes, that. I'm sure the whores would be willing to overlook your... inexperience. You can finally learn where to put it."</p><p>Jon's eyes widened, and he said nothing, entirely at a loss for words, only looking between Sam and Caitie, both of whom were barely concealing their grins.</p><p>"Nothing to say?" she asked innocently.</p><p>Jon opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it. "I'm going to leave now," he finally said.</p><p>Caitie and Sam gave up trying to hide their grins as Jon walked away.</p><p>"Shall I make your excuses tonight?" she called after him.</p><p>Jon didn't look back, but Caitie was almost sure he was laughing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ah, poor Jon and his resentment issues towards his brother. Makes me glad I never had to deal with siblings.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Drunken Conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Was it true?" Jon asked the same evening, while they waited in the pantry for Sam to arrive.</p><p>"Hmm?" Caitie wasn't paying much attention as she stroked Ghost's head, who lay in between her and Jon, snoring loudly.</p><p>"What you said about knowing how to prevent pregnancy."</p><p>Caitie snickered. "Still thinking about that, are you?"</p><p>Jon threw her a dirty look.</p><p>"Oh, calm down," she said, rolling her eyes. "I was only teasing earlier. Gods, you have no sense of humor."</p><p>In response, he scoffed. "I do. Sometimes."</p><p>Caitie ignored him. She stopped petting Ghost and took a sip of ale. "Anyway, yes, it's true. Moon tea—"</p><p>"I already know about moon tea."</p><p>"And sheep intestine." When Jon gave her a blank stare, she clarified, "It goes on the, um," and gestured downward.</p><p>An incredulous laugh bubbled up from him. "Seven Hells, Caitie. How do you know that?"</p><p>She shrugged. "Owen and Cerys—but mostly Cerys. He's been going to brothels for almost as long as I can remember."</p><p>"My father refused to even swear around my sisters, never mind speak of brothels in front of them."</p><p>"Really? Why not?"</p><p>"He wanted to protect them."</p><p>Caitie pursed her lips, thinking.</p><p>She loved her brothers immensely, and she was grateful for the skills they'd given her—that they trusted her to look out for herself. But sometimes a part of Caitie wished she'd had a father who wanted to protect her—one who cared about her wellbeing.</p><p>It wasn't fair.</p><p>Apparently, Caitie had gone too long without responding because Jon said, defensively, "You don't approve?"</p><p>"What? No, it's not that. I suppose... I'm a bit jealous, honestly. My father never had any interest in protecting me. In fact, he usually went out of his way to do the opposite. He <em>really </em>liked to scream at me. Or whip me. Or both. All for my own benefit, of course—to make me into a good, obedient, little lady. It never worked."</p><p>As soon as the words left her, she regretted speaking them. She hadn't meant to admit that.</p><p>Stupid alcohol.</p><p>"Anyway," she said, "the point is I would have loved a father who wanted to look out for me."</p><p>"What about your brothers?"</p><p>She rested her hand on her cheek, glad for the change in subject. "Owen and Cerys always said I had to learn to protect myself, so they taught me the skills I needed in order to do so."</p><p>"Which is why you know how to fight, even though you're a lady."</p><p>"It's not so unusual," Caitie said, frowning. She didn't like his implication that being a fighter and being a lady were somehow incompatible. "House Mormont teaches their women to fight, and my mother's mother was a Mormont. I suppose you could say I'm following tradition."</p><p>Jon stopped, his brow furrowing as he processed her words. "Wait, you're related to the lord commander?"</p><p>"Not closely. A distant cousin," she said, waving her hand dismissively.</p><p>"I thought your mother was a southerner—that's what Maester Luwin taught us."</p><p>"She was. My grandfather was a bannerman to the Baratheons." Caitie paused. "Are we going to discuss my lineage all night? It's not very exciting."</p><p>"More exciting than mine," Jon said. He meant his words to be lighthearted, but they were a little too pointed to be effective as such.</p><p>Caitie probably should have left it alone—Jon enjoyed talking about his wonderful childhood about as much as she did hers. But she found herself speaking, anyway. "You really despise being a bastard, don't you?"</p><p>"You noticed."</p><p>"It's difficult not to," she said. "Was it that awful?"</p><p>Jon considered her words for a good long time before finally deciding to speak. "My entire life, I've been the Bastard of Winterfell, and no one has ever let me forget it. It was always something I couldn't escape."</p><p>He stopped and shook his head. But once he'd said the words, he couldn't seem to keep anything else back, so he told Caitie everything, the rest spilling out.</p><p>He described how Sansa had always called him her half brother or bastard brother, how Robb was his father's favorite, the one who got all the attention, how Jon was always caught between love and jealousy for his brother, and how he hated himself for it. He described how everyone at Winterfell always referred to him as Ned Stark's bastard. Then, finally, he told her the way Lady Stark had treated him; how she'd told him to leave when he went to tell Bran—who was on the brink of death from a fall—goodbye.</p><p>"As I sat there, with his little hand in mine, she said, 'I want you to leave.'" He shook his head. "But I <em>was</em> leaving. I was going to the Wall, never to grace her halls again. And she <em>still</em> hated me. No matter what I did, it never made a difference."</p><p>"What about your father?" Caitie asked.</p><p>Jon sighed. "My father tried to make me feel included. He gave me a lord's education and training. He took me hunting with Robb, gave me the same speeches and lessons—tried his best to groom me into a man. But she..." he clenched his fists. "Lady Catelyn always thought I was trying to take my brother's place. She thought so little of me, even when I went out of my way to make her life easier. The only thing she saw was the woman my father laid with." He shook his head. "She tried to stop me from attending Robb's nameday, you know. She said it wouldn't be appropriate. But Robb wanted me there, so she had to allow it."</p><p>"No wonder you brooded in a corner the entire time."</p><p>Jon snorted. "Aye." He stared down at Ghost's sleeping form. "When we found the direwolf pups, I only saw five—for each of Lord Stark's children. I said they were the sigil of his house, so it was meant to be. Bran asked me why I didn't get one. I told him it was because I wasn't a Stark."</p><p>"And then you found Ghost."</p><p>Jon nodded. "Lady Catelyn just<em> loved</em> that."</p><p>Caitie was at a loss for words. Looking at Jon's face, full of poorly concealed hurt, she hated Catelyn Stark. The Lady of Winterfell was why Jon had felt so much like an outsider, why he'd punished himself his whole life. It was why, even with a direwolf by his side, Jon refused to consider himself a Stark.</p><p>No child should ever hate who they are, Caitie thought, and Catelyn Stark had insured Jon would.</p><p>She didn't think he'd appreciate a sincere, <em>I'm sorry</em>, though—not now.</p><p>"Well," she said slowly, trying to think of a response. "I knew there was a reason I didn't like her."</p><p>She nudged Jon in an attempt to cheer him up, but he only looked down solemnly. Caitie couldn't blame him.</p><p>They sat like that, not speaking for a while. Eventually, Caitie took another sip of ale and tried again. "I know this won't make things better, but I'm sorry Lady Stark was such a cunt."</p><p>Jon stared, wide-eyed in shock.</p><p>"What?" she asked. "I've heard the word used that way before, and it seemed fitting here."</p><p>Jon still said nothing, and suddenly he was laughing so hard that tears leaked out his eyes. It went on for a good few minutes before he finally got control over his breath. "I can't believe you just called the Lady of Winterfell a cunt."</p><p>Well, she thought, this was better than the bleak atmosphere from before.</p><p>"I'm glad you found my remark amusing," Caitie said wryly.</p><p>"Amusing? Not exactly how I'd put it."</p><p>"Oh? And how would you put it?"</p><p>Jon thought for a minute. "Unladylike."</p><p>Caitie lightly punched his arm as he continued to laugh. She held out for a few moments before giggling herself. Perhaps it was just the ale, but calling her liege lord's wife the most—as Jon had said—unladylike word did strike her as rather funny.</p><p>The moment was cut short when Ghost's ears perked up, and he stared at the door, forcing Caitie and Jon to become clear-headed again.</p><p>They watched as the handle turned, and Sam stepped into the pantry.</p><p>"There you are," she said, sighing in relief that her friend hadn't been caught by Thorne or worse on his way. "I was starting to worry."</p><p>"I know I'm late. I'm sorry. I got distracted in the library."</p><p>"We would never have guessed."</p><p>He chuckled and ruffled her hair as he sat beside her. "Did I miss anything?"</p><p>Caitie and Jon eyed each other before she grinned. "Oh, nothing much of interest."</p><p>Sam looked between the two of them with mild suspicion. "I don't want to know, do I?"</p><p>"Probably not," Caitie replied. "At least not until you're very drunk."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was tipsy when I wrote this, so I thought it would be awful, but now it's one of my favorite chapters so far. I don't know, I guess getting drunk just really helps me write good shit.</p><p>Oh, also, sheep intestines were actually used in ancient Rome, sort of like a medieval condom. I figure the Westerosi would have figured out how to use it too. So, yeah.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Stewards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lord Commander Mormont's speech was even longer and more tedious to listen to than the last one.</p><p>After months at Castle Black and zero speeches, Caitie had hoped the one from her first day would be the last, but she had been wrong—so very wrong. The lord commander droned on for what felt like hours, and while Caitie respected him well enough, she was quickly warming to the idea of beginning a riot just so the damned thing would end. Every unnecessary word or pause for dramatic effect made her want to strangle him.</p><p>That it was also Owen's twenty-fourth nameday did not help her lack of patience. If it hadn't been understood already that she was no longer part of her family, this certainly clarified things. The idea of her three brothers celebrating without her was like a sharp pain in her chest. She felt so extraordinarily <em>alone</em>—despite the friends beside her.</p><p>To Caitie's left sat Grenn. She was certain Sam had sat on Jon's other side to force her into Grenn's proximity, and even though Caitie knew it wasn't malicious, she still did not appreciate it. Her situation was already precarious; a crush on one of the men was the last thing she needed.</p><p>To Caitie's right was Jon, looking notably grim, albeit for a much different reason. She couldn't blame him; earlier that day, his uncle's horse had returned from beyond the Wall with no rider. Caitie wished she had something comforting to tell him, but Jon's foul mood did little to help her own, and she couldn't think of anything that would comfort him.</p><p>Sam could, at least. Caitie wasn't able to hear what he'd said to Jon over the lord commander's booming voice, but whatever it was, it managed to get him to smile. Sam was good at that, Caitie had realized over the last few months—making people feel better. He always knew the right thing to say.</p><p>She turned her attention back to the makeshift dais, listening as the speech continued on and on for what felt like ages. The line of senior brothers stood behind the lord commander, looking down at them, unmoving, while all the recruits sat silently in the middle of the courtyard, seemingly enraptured. If anyone else was as bored as her, they were doing a remarkable job of hiding it.</p><p>"Here, you begin anew," Mormont was saying. He walked down the steps from the elevator platform as he kept on, despite his having spoken for twenty minutes already. "A man of the Night's Watch... lives his life for the realm. Not for a king, or a lord, or the honor of this house or that house; not for gold nor glory, nor a woman's love; but for the <em>realm</em>! And all the people in it. You've all learned the words of the vow. Think carefully before you say them."</p><p>Caitie thought that was a rather insensitive thing to say; most of these men had no choice in the matter. But, she supposed she couldn't fault Lord Commander Mormont's flair for the dramatics—as long as the speech was over.</p><p>"The penalty for desertion is death," he finished. And finally, he moved on, asking if any of the recruits kept the Old Gods.</p><p>Both she and Jon stood.</p><p>Perhaps it was a stupid idea to admit to keeping the Old Gods when she was trying to stay inconspicuous, but Caitie was a Northerner. She could never deny it, no matter what the circumstances were, and her brothers would kill her if she ever tried.</p><p>"You'll want to take your vows in front of a heart tree, as your uncle did," Mormont said. "You'll find a weirwood a mile north of the Wall. And your Old Gods too, maybe." He was mostly addressing Jon, but Caitie didn't mind. The less attention from the lord commander, the better.</p><p>Sam stood. "My lord, may I go as well?" he asked.</p><p>"Does House Tarly still keep the Old Gods?"</p><p>"No, my lord. I was named in the light of the Seven, as my father was and his father before him."</p><p>"Why would you forsake the Gods of your father and your house?" Thorne cut in, evidently unable to mind his own business. Caitie wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave her friend alone, but she swallowed the urge and settled instead on rolling her eyes and scowling.</p><p>For his part, Sam held his ground surprisingly well. He managed to be more polite than Caitie ever could have been, at least. "The Night's Watch is my house now. The Seven have never answered my prayers. Perhaps the Old Gods will."</p><p>"As you wish, lad," Mormont replied before he looked back down at his scroll. "You've all been assigned an order, according to our needs and your strengths."</p><p>Caitie listened intently as he began to read.</p><p>Pyp and Sam were to be stewards; Grenn a ranger. They all grinned excitedly, and Jon leaned over Caitie to smack Grenn's arm in congratulations.</p><p>The excitement did not last long, however, as Lord Commander Mormont read off, "Caitie, to the stewards," and the five of them stared at each other in confusion.</p><p>A steward, she thought. Why not a ranger? She was, after all, one of the best fighters among the recruits. Caitie may not have had the same desire as Jon to be a ranger, but she still would have preferred it.</p><p>Well, at least Owen and Cerys would probably be pleased—being a steward was much less life-threatening than being a ranger, and they wanted her to put her head down and survive. The thought calmed Caitie until she remembered about Owen's nameday and the world became gloomy once again.</p><p>But before she could really start to wallow, Lord Commander Mormont's voice distracted her. "Jon, to the stewards."</p><p>Caitie felt Jon go tense. He shot her and Sam a distressed glance before staring back up at Thorne—who was sneering at him. The master-at-arms looked positively joyful.</p><p>Caitie wondered if he'd had something to do with Jon's assignment. If the glare on Jon's face was any indication, he was wondering the same thing.</p><p>But there was no more time to contemplate the odd turn of events as Mormont finished speaking. "May all the gods preserve you."</p><p>He rolled up his scroll and left them to report to their new superiors. Jon was in such a stupor that Caitie had to shake his shoulder to remind him to move. He followed her to the others and stood stiffly as the Maester—an old, blind man named Aemon—told each of the stewards where to go.</p><p>Caitie was to report to One-eyed Joe in the stables. The assignment wasn't so bad, she decided. Though she'd never been the best rider, she had always liked horses. And Ghost spent loads of time in the stables, so at least she'd have a companion—a massive, red-eyed, direwolf companion to scare off anyone who would bother her. That was a comforting thought.</p><p>Meanwhile, Sam would be assisting Maester Aemon in the library and rookery. Pyp was to report to Bowen Marsh in the kitchens, and Jon had been selected personally by Lord Commander Mormont to be his steward.</p><p>He wasn't pleased with the idea. "Will I serve the Lord Commander's meals and fetch hot water for his bath?"</p><p>"Certainly. And keep a fire burning in his chambers, change his sheets and blankets daily, and do everything else the Lord Commander requires of you," Maester Aemon answered, seemingly unaware of the petulant tone.</p><p>"Do you take me for a servant?"</p><p>"We took you for a man of the Night's Watch. But perhaps we were wrong in that."</p><p>Jon's hands curled into fists. "May I go?"</p><p>The maester allowed it. Jon pushed past Sam and stalked off. Sam bowed quickly and ran off after him; Caitie and Pyp close behind.</p><p>"Jon, wait!" Sam called as they followed Jon into an alcove off the courtyard. "Don't you see what they're doing?"</p><p>Jon pulled off his gloves and threw them down onto a crate. "I see Ser Alliser's revenge; that's all. He wanted it, and he got it. Stewards are nothing but maids; I'm a better swordsman and rider than any of you. It's not fair!"</p><p>Caitie was so taken aback by his comment that she scoffed loudly and threw him a dirty look. She knew Jon wasn't wrong—it probably <em>was</em> unfair—but the way he said it caused Caitie to become irrationally upset. It was as if he thought he somehow deserved more than the rest of them, or as if he was better than they were. She hadn't seen him act so annoyingly superior since her first day at Castle Black, and she, quite emphatically, did not like it.</p><p>Of course, it didn't help matters that he'd insulted her swordsmanship, too.</p><p>Jon glowered at her, but before they could argue, Pyp interceded angrily, telling them the truth of how he came to Castle Black.</p><p>His story made Caitie even less sympathetic towards Jon.</p><p>"Fair?" he asked incredulously. "I was singing for a high lord at Acorn Hall when he put his hand on my leg and wanted to see my cock. I pushed him away, and he said he'd have my hands cut off for stealing their silver." He gave Jon a cold look. "So now I'm here—at the end of the world with no one to sing for but old men and little shits like you. I'll never see my family again. I'll never be inside a woman again. So don't tell me about fair."</p><p>"I thought you were caught stealing a wheel of cheese for your starving sister," Sam said.</p><p>"You think I was gonna tell a bunch of strangers that a high lord tried to grab my cock?"</p><p>Caitie tilted her head to the side. "Why not? We wouldn't have judged you for it."</p><p>Pyp stared in exasperation, and Sam shook his head at her. It led Caitie to believe she'd missed something.</p><p>"Could you sing me a song, Pyp? I'd like to hear a song," Sam asked, trying to change the subject.</p><p>Pyp only grunted and stormed away. Caitie watched him go, then, remembering Jon, crossed her arms, and turned to scowl at him.</p><p>"You have something to say, too?" he asked venomously.</p><p>Caitie tried to hold her tongue and speak calmly. But she couldn't. She was scared, homesick, angry, and a myriad of other emotions she couldn't put into words. And now, Jon was acting as if <em>she</em> had done something wrong.</p><p>It was as if a spark had gone off inside of her. Everything about him—his voice, his face, his petulant anger—increased her frustration. She wanted to... she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Strangle him, maybe.</p><p>At least Caitie had the wherewithal to use her words and not her fists.</p><p>"Oh, would you just be quiet for once in your <em>fucking </em>life?" she snapped. "So you're upset you don't get to be a ranger. It doesn't mean you have to be an arrogant, entitled prick about it."</p><p>"Entitled?" he retorted. "I'm a bastard; I've never been entitled in my whole life."</p><p>"Well, you're certainly acting like it."</p><p>Jon laughed derisively, his temper rising to match hers. "And this is coming from <em>you</em>?"</p><p>Caitie raised her eyebrows. "What is that supposed to mean?"</p><p>"Seven Hells!" Jon yelled. He lowered his voice just enough that no one else could hear. "You're a lady. You have had everything handed to you!"</p><p>"Everything handed to me? Are you insane?" She ran her fingers through her hair to keep herself from punching him. "How dare you! You have no idea what it's like to be a lady. You have never had to worry about being married off to whichever decrepit, horrible lord wants you, or being treated like a—a vessel, good for nothing but popping out male heirs!"</p><p>"And you've got no idea what it's like to be constantly reminded that you're not a part of your own family and that you'll always have a bastard's name!" His face was now inches from her own.</p><p>"I'm reminded that I'm not a part of my family every day I'm in this miserable place!" Caitie cried. She was in such a fit of anger she could barely think. "You think you're the only one who's had a shit childhood, who's been mistreated, and I'm sick of it. You want to be a ranger? Well, I want to go home to my brothers without my father forcing me to marry a man worse than a rapist. It looks like neither of us is going to get what we want."</p><p>Caitie stopped. She knew that if she went on, she'd start to sob. As it was, she could already feel the tears coming to the surface.</p><p>So, with one last incensed look at Jon, Caitie turned and stomped off before either he or Sam could see her cry.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welllllllllllllllllllllllll that took forever for me to edit. Sorry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Kitty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caitie's first time having the ability to enjoy the Wall without being on guard duty or having others around was now officially ruined. She sat at the edge of the north-facing side and stared at the forest beyond, trying to blink her tears away. Any other day, Caitie might have looked out at the mountain ranges on the south-facing side—the ones where she had grown up. But she couldn't right then. It was too painful.</p><p>She missed home.</p><p>It was the constant ache that wouldn't seem to go away, no matter how much Caitie tried to think of something else. She missed her brothers, her keep, her dresses, even her stupid old septa, who spent most of their time together berating Caitie for talking back and telling her to sit correctly.</p><p>And, if the reminder of the loss of her family weren't enough for one day, then there was also her fight with Jon. She was caught between being so angry that she wanted to punch him in the face, but also terrified that they wouldn't ever be friends again. He wasn't just her friend, he was the closest friend she'd ever had.</p><p>They understood each other—or at least she thought they had—and she didn't want that to change, even if he had made her angry. It was confusing and frustrating, and Caitie hated it.</p><p>"What're you doing up here?" a voice said, breaking her train of thought. Caitie quickly rubbed her eyes—the last thing she needed was someone seeing her cry—and was about to snap at whoever it was to leave her alone until she turned to look at the visitor.</p><p>It was Grenn.</p><p>Caitie took a deep breath and replied, "Thinking."</p><p>"Up here?"</p><p>"It's the perfect place. There's nothing to distract you."</p><p>Grenn sat down next to her, and Caitie took a second, even deeper breath, trying to steady all of the emotions coursing through her. Gods, it would just be <em>hilarious </em>if she started to cry in front of him, of all people.</p><p>"I can't believe you're not a ranger," he said. "You're better than any of us, except maybe Jon."</p><p>Caitie felt her cheeks heat up at the compliment, and also frustration at the mention of Jon, but nevertheless, she tried to maintain the appearance of calm. "I'm surprised you'd admit it," she joked.</p><p>"You know you're good."</p><p>"Well, that's true. You'll be a good ranger, though."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>Caitie smiled and immediately answered, "Yes."</p><p>He grinned back at her, but then his expression changed to one of observance, and she looked away, trying to avoid eye contact.</p><p>Y'know," Grenn said, "you have dimples when you smile."</p><p>Was he flirting? Caitie thought he might have been—she'd seen Cerys do it enough to know the signs—but she also knew it was impossible. To him, she was a boy, and Grenn wasn't the smartest of men. He could never have figured her little secret out. Anyway, if he were trying to flirt, commenting on her dimples would be a bad way of going about it. She <em>hated</em> them.</p><p>Then, he bumped her shoulder with his own. "I always wanted dimples. You're one lucky bastard."</p><p>The comment made Caitie realize he was not flirting. She couldn't decide whether she was happy about it or not.</p><p>"Don't remind me," she said. "My younger brother used to call them my 'face holes' when he was young, and then my older brother kept on calling them that because he knew I hated it."</p><p>"You have brothers?"</p><p>Caitie grimaced. She hadn't meant to say that. But since there was no turning back, she decided she might as well tell him the rest. "Three of them. Two older and one younger."</p><p>Grenn snorted. "Four boys. Your mother must've <em>loved</em> that."</p><p>"She died, actually; when I was six."</p><p>"Oh… sorry."</p><p>"It's okay. It was a long time ago."</p><p>Neither said anything more, looking down awkwardly for longer than Caitie would have liked.</p><p>Why was it she could tease and joke and laugh with Jon and Sam, but not Grenn? It was just so... stupid.</p><p>Finally, she decided she had to say something to diffuse the tension and asked, "What about you? Don't you have siblings?"</p><p>Grenn shrugged. "Nah, I was abandoned at a farmhouse before I can even remember. Couldn't have been more than three."</p><p>She stared down at the snow, now even more embarrassed. Gods, and Caitie had thought it awkward before. She shouldn't have asked; she should've just shut up—though she had never been very good at that.</p><p>Thankfully, they were interrupted by the sound of boots on snow. Both of them looked over their shoulders at the newcomer—Sam.</p><p>"May I talk with him for a moment?" he asked Grenn. Caitie smiled reassuringly at him—or, at least as reassuringly as she could—and nodded.</p><p>He pushed himself up, gave Caitie his usual grin, and said, "I'll see you later."</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>After Grenn had left, Sam took his place and stared nervously at the edge of the Wall. "I hate it up here," he admitted.</p><p>Caitie crossed her arms and pouted. "You didn't have to come up."</p><p>"I wanted to make sure you were all right."</p><p>"I'm fine."</p><p>Sam gave Caitie a look that made clear he didn't believe her, and she sighed. "Today is my brother's nameday."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"And I'm stuck here, at the edge of Westeros, with some of the worst shits in the Seven Kingdoms. I hate it." She picked up a handful of snow and tossed it as far as she could. It relieved a bit of frustration, but not enough. "If I see my brothers ever again, I'll be lucky."</p><p>Caitie felt bad immediately for whining about this to Sam. He had it just as bad as she did—if not worse. But then, maybe he would understand.</p><p>"I'll never get to go home again, or get to wear a dress, or—or—" Her voice cracked, and she began to cry.</p><p>"Oh, Caitie, I'm so sorry."</p><p>"I hate my father," she sobbed. "I <em>hate</em> him!"</p><p>Sam put a comforting arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into it. "Your betrothed," he asked uncertainly. "Worse than a rapist?"</p><p>"I don't want to talk about it."</p><p>"We don't have to." Sam paused. "You know, Jon—"</p><p>"I don't want to talk about Jon, either."</p><p>"He feels terrible."</p><p>"He told you that?" Caitie was more than a little skeptical.</p><p>Sam hesitated before answering. "Not… exactly. But Jon never says how he's feeling."</p><p>"He said exactly how he felt half an hour ago. I've had everything handed to me, remember? Ugh, Jon hasn't a clue what being a lady was like. Why would he even say that?"</p><p>Sam furrowed his brows and then started to chuckle. "Oh, Caitie, can't you see he's jealous of you?"</p><p>Caitie balked. "What? That's impossible."</p><p>Sam smiled at her as if she were being deliberately obtuse. "You're the trueborn child of a northern lord," he pointed out. "It's all Jon's ever wanted."</p><p>"If Jon knew what it was like, he wouldn't," she snapped. "You'd think he would, considering how his favorite sister hated being a lady, but apparently not. You know, it's not as if I wanted to give up being a girl and come here, in danger of rape and death all the time. I had no other choice. I thought he understood that." She knew she was rambling, but Caitie was too irritated to care.</p><p>"He does understand. Or, he at least tries to. He hates himself for feeling this way; he just can't help it."</p><p>Caitie sighed. Her anger was dissipating already, but she wanted to hold on to it just a little longer.</p><p>Sam nudged her and said, "You should talk to him. He's your friend, I promise."</p><p>"I really went off on him, didn't I?" Caitie sighed and rubbed her temples. She could feel a headache coming on from the whole ordeal.</p><p>"Not that he didn't deserve it, but a little. You sort of pounced on him."</p><p>A memory emerged from the back of her mind at Sam's comment, and she found herself laughing. "You know, my mother used to say I was like a cat. You couldn't see the claws until they were out, but once they were, someone was going to get hurt. She used to call me Kitty, I think."</p><p>"Do you miss her?"</p><p>"Sometimes. She died a long time ago."</p><p>Sam looked down sadly. "I miss my mother. And my sister. Even my brother, sometimes. "</p><p>"Gods, I'm sorry, Sam," she said, wincing. "I know this is difficult for you, too."</p><p>"It's all right," he said. "I think... I think my mother was glad, in some ways, when I left."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>Sam nodded. "I know she worries for me, here. But my father was... well, she tried her best to push back against him when it came to me, but there wasn't much she could do."</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>"Hmm, well, for example, I used to read to her in the evenings. When my father found out, he—um, he stopped it. She shouted at him for hours when he did. He always allowed my mother to shout at him. It never changed his mind, but she always tried." He leaned in, as if he was sharing a secret. "Between you and me, I was her favorite."</p><p>Caitie wondered if her father had ever allowed her mother to yell at him, but somehow, she doubted it. "Does she know why you joined the Night's Watch?"</p><p>Sam shook his head. "I couldn't tell her. She would never have forgiven my father if she knew."</p><p>"I can't say I'd blame her."</p><p>"No?"</p><p>"I've never even met your father, and I hate him for what he did to you."</p><p>"Thank you, Caitie." He smiled kindly at her.</p><p>She smiled back, feeling her mood lighten. "Anyway, what about your brother and sister?" she asked. "You haven't spoken as much about them. Talla and Dickon?"</p><p>"Well, Talla talked a lot—quite like you, actually."</p><p>Caitie nudged him in the ribs.</p><p>"She would climb into my bed at night when she'd had a nightmare," Sam continued, closing his eyes and smiling as if lost in a memory. "Dickon was my father's favorite. He didn't understand, but I think he loved me, in his own way. I hope he did."</p><p>Caitie's chest constricted with guilt as she watched him relive the memories of his siblings. She and Jon had been so wrapped up in their own problems, they'd just ignored Sam's.</p><p>"I'm so sorry. I know how much you must miss them."</p><p>Sam looked back down at her. "I know you do. But it's not all bad, here. I met you, didn't I? In some ways, you're kind of like a sister."</p><p>Caitie stared up at him, surprised, but then she beamed. "You know, I think I could do with another brother."</p><p>Sam grinned back at her, removed his arm from her shoulder, stood up, and held out a hand. "Well then, Sister; shall we go take our vows?"</p><p>"The first girl of the Night's Watch. They should bake me a cake."</p><p>Sam chuckled. "Come on, Kitty."</p><p>If Caitie could've beamed harder, she would have. She accepted his outstretched hand and followed him to the elevator, ready to face the Night's Watch vows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Night's Watch Vows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caitie and Sam entered the courtyard to find an ecstatic direwolf waiting for them.</p><p>Ghost seemed unable to contain his excitement as he bounded up to the pair, running in circles so fast his legs couldn't seem to keep up. Then, he plopped himself down and looked between them expectantly. He obviously knew where they were about to go. Caitie giggled softly and bent down to pet the wolf. Sometimes he seemed more like a pup than a scary direwolf, and it was adorable—if one could call a four-foot, red-eyed direwolf adorable.</p><p>She scratched behind his ear until her arm started to get tired, then stood and glanced up to find Jon standing in front of her.</p><p>Sam gave Caitie a pointed look, before nodding towards the gate. "I'll just be over there," he said.</p><p>He walked away, leaving Caitie and Jon alone. Neither said anything for a moment or two, mainly because Caitie didn't exactly know what to say. Luckily, she didn't have to, because Jon spoke first.</p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>Caitie stared silently, wondering if she had heard him correctly. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been Jon, one of the most stubborn people Caitie had ever met, apologizing.</p><p>"I didn't mean what I said; any of it," he continued. "You were right. I should've been…"</p><p>"Less of an arrogant prick?" she supplied, forming a hint of a smile.</p><p>Jon nodded once—it was a testament to how sorry he felt that he didn't rise to her bait. "I don't think you've had everything handed to you. I know being a—you know—wasn't easy. Your father didn't make it easier."</p><p>Caitie thought of Sam's words. It led her to reply, somewhat surprisingly, "It's okay."</p><p>He didn't seem to expect her forgiveness so quickly. "Really?" he asked with mild suspicion.</p><p>She rolled her eyes. "Yes, really." As she saw his body relax, the last of her anger finally faded, and she decided it was her turn to ask forgiveness. "I'm sorry, too. What happened today wasn't fair—you deserved to be a ranger, and you were denied it."</p><p>Jon had spent his whole life being passed over and ignored, no matter what he did. This was just another instance of it—only worse, because the Night's Watch was supposed to care nothing of past titles, or lack thereof. She should have realized it before she blew up at him.</p><p>Jon took a deep breath. "I've... come to terms with being a steward. Sam thinks the lord commander is grooming me for command."</p><p>Caitie raised her eyebrows at him. Jon as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch? Jon?</p><p>"That's... congratulations, I suppose." She didn't know what else to say.</p><p>"Thank you, Caitie."</p><p>He didn't look particularly thankful—just sad.</p><p>Which reminded her of Benjen Stark's disappearance. Her guilt tripled. "Gods, I can't believe I forgot about your uncle. Jon, I'm so sorry. I'm a terrible person."</p><p>"No, you're not." When Caitie shot him a look, he added, "Not<em> that</em> terrible."</p><p>"Still..." Thinking again of Sam and what he'd told her, she continued. "Look, I know I could never understand what it was like to grow up a bastard. I know I had privileges you didn't. You deserve a lot better than what you got."</p><p>Jon blinked. "You think so?"</p><p>Caitie nodded. "I do. I feel awful for calling you entitled. You're the furthest thing from it. I just…" she trailed off, not sure if it was a good idea to go on. She didn't want to put her problems on Jon just after they'd fought—just after losing his uncle.</p><p>"You just?"</p><p>Oh, to hell with it, she decided. He'd find out from Sam, eventually. "It's Owen's nameday. First one of my brothers' I've ever missed."</p><p>Jon thought for a bit before answering. "What you said about not being part of your family." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Caitie, I'm sorry. I didn't know."</p><p>"It's all right."</p><p>"No, it isn't. I acted like a..." He struggled to find the right word.</p><p>She couldn't stop her grin, enjoying his groveling more than she probably should have. But Caitie didn't think she would ever see it again, so she was going to savor it.</p><p>"Well, honestly, you <em>did</em> act like a bit of an ass." When he stared down at the mud, all guilty and tortured, she added, "But you know, it wasn't completely undeserved. And really, I think it's one of your charms."</p><p>"Charms?" he asked flatly.</p><p>"Mm, well, maybe not so charming, much as annoying. But you're still my friend, regardless."</p><p>Jon's lips twitched upward, and Caitie could tell he was trying to maintain a straight face. Or she hoped he was.</p><p>"You're my friend, too," he said. "Don't know why, though."</p><p>Caitie smiled and grabbed Jon's arm. "Come on," she said. "Let's go take our vows before Sam thinks we're about to kill each other."</p><p>He allowed her to pull him along over to the inner gate where Sam stood. Timidly, he asked, "Is everything okay?"</p><p>She rolled her eyes. "It wasn't that big of a fight." Jon snorted, prompting her to bump his shoulder with hers. "Oh, do be quiet, Jon."</p><p>They didn't have a minute more to discuss things. Right on time, the three men of the Night's Watch who would be escorting them beyond the Wall appeared, including the First Builder, Othell Yarwyck. He was a man in his middle age, with long, greying hair. He smiled kindly at them as he and his men approached, shaking their hands and asking if they were ready.</p><p>When Jon, Sam, and Caitie all assured him they were, Yarwyck signaled to let them through. The party watched as the gate opened, revealing the vast forest. Tentatively, Caitie followed the five others and Ghost out the gate.</p><p>The Haunted Forest was massive and, frankly, terrifying. It towered over them, and all the scary stories Caitie had been told about as a child started to feel more real than ever. She had to keep reminding herself as they moved through the forest that they were just that; stories. The worst their party could come across was Wildlings, and Wildlings, for all their fearsome talk, were only men.</p><p>Ghost seemed to sense her hesitancy because he fell back to walk beside her. Caitie patted his head in silent thanks and followed the rest of the group to a small clearing where a single weirwood tree sat.</p><p>She nearly started to cry for the second time that day when she saw it.</p><p>The weirwood tree was tall, with an almost pure-white trunk and winding branches covered in blood-red leaves. The sight of it brought back so many memories of Caitie's childhood that she stumbled back. It looked exactly like the one in the Godswood back home, where her brothers would regularly drag her and Arthur to pray. Caitie would always whine and cry the whole way there, asking Owen, "But why?" as she clutched his sleeve.</p><p>And he would always reply with, "It's our duty. We're Northerners; the blood of the first men runs through our veins. We must carry on their legacy."</p><p>She never cared much for prayer, though. Caitie didn't really see the point of it, especially after her mother's death. Her mother was dead; what could the Gods do? They were the ones that took her in the first place. Why would she want to pray to a god who would do that?</p><p>But despite all her feelings regarding prayer, she would sit with her three brothers, respecting their ancestors by honoring the Gods, and seeing this weirwood, amazingly, made her miss it.</p><p>The tree so transfixed Caitie, she didn't even realize Ghost had run off to hunt. Sam had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She shook herself out of her stupor, took a deep breath, and kneeled before the weirwood with her two friends, as they recited their oath.</p><p>"<em>Hear my words and bear witness to my vow: Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.</em>"</p><p>The words felt odd on Caitie's lips. She had no desire to take a wife and was quite obviously unable to father children. More than that, however, the whole situation felt wrong—almost like a game or a farce. It made her feel strangely guilty. She was pretending to be someone she wasn't and reciting vows which didn't truly apply to her. She could believe the all-male rule was stupid and unfair as much as she liked, but it didn't change that reciting the vow felt like she was lying.</p><p>When the three of them stood, Caitie pulled away, watching Jon and Sam clap each other on the back. Their escorts congratulated them, but soon her friends realized she wasn't sharing in the celebration. They turned towards her, grinning from ear to ear. The excitement was so contagious, Caitie felt herself smiling back at them.</p><p>Perhaps if Jon and Sam knew who she was and were willing to accept her regardless, then it wasn't a lie. Caitie may be a girl, she thought, but she could still be the shield that guards the realms of men. She could even be a part of the order.</p><p>The two men dragged her into a hug and clapped her on the back. "We did it," Sam said after the three of them pulled away from each other.</p><p>"We're men," Jon added, smiling slyly at Caitie, "of the Night's Watch."</p><p>Caitie threw her arms back around her friends and laughed, but the joyful mood soon evaporated as Ghost reappeared with something in his mouth—a human hand.</p><p>"To me, Ghost. Bring it here," said Jon.</p><p>Caitie had to stop herself from gasping in horror as the direwolf dropped the hand at Jon's feet. She felt as though she was going to vomit, but instead, she steeled herself and stared at it. There were three black brothers here who she couldn't let see her weak.</p><p>"Gods be good!" Sam exclaimed, but she barely registered it.</p><p>Looking at the severed hand, Caitie felt a chill run down her spine. All of a sudden, she got the terrible feeling she was going to be witnessing a lot of death very soon as a member of the Night's Watch.</p><hr/><p>It didn't take long for them to gather the bodies—of which there were two—and load them onto a cart to take back to Castle Black. Caitie couldn't bring herself to look at them for longer than a few seconds at a time, so she stayed far away from the bodies while they walked home.</p><p>As they entered through the gate, Lord Commander Mormont stood waiting for them. "It's Othor, without a doubt," he said grimly, leaning down to take a closer look.</p><p>Othell Yarwyck nodded towards the other body. "The other one is Jafer Flowers, my lord, less the hand the wolf tore off."</p><p>"Any sign of Benjen or the rest of his party?"</p><p>"Just these two, my lord," said Jon, not taking his eyes off the cart. "Been dead a while, I'd say."</p><p>Caitie caught his gaze, trying to convey how sorry she felt—the likelihood of Benjen Stark being alive had just gotten much slimmer. A look of understanding passed between the two, and she knew they would talk about this at length later.</p><p>Sam sniffed the bodies and furrowed his brows. "The smell," he said once finished.</p><p>Yarwyck echoed Sam's movement and shrugged. "What smell?"</p><p>"There is none. If they'd been dead for a long time, wouldn't there be rot?"</p><p>Caitie hadn't thought of it, but Sam was right. And for some strange reason, it set off alarm bells in her mind. Something was wrong about this situation—but she couldn't put her finger on what.</p><p>"We should burn them," Jon said.</p><p>Yarwyck agreed with the sentiment, but the lord commander shook his head. "I want Maester Aemon to examine them, first." He nodded towards Sam. "You may be a coward, Tarly, but you're not stupid."</p><p>Regardless of the circumstances, Caitie smiled proudly at her friend. That was as close to a compliment as it seemed one could get from Mormont.</p><p>The lord commander ordered some brothers to take the bodies away, and while everyone was distracted, Caitie whispered to Jon, "Are you okay?"</p><p>He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, not really."</p><p>A different brother interrupted them before she could answer.</p><p>He stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard and addressed Mormont. "Lord Commander, Maester Aemon awaits you in his chambers."</p><p>There was a pause before the brother spoke again, but when he did, Caitie could have sworn the atmosphere became suddenly ominous.</p><p>"A raven from King's Landing."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This could probably have stood to be edited more, but eh, covid stress has me too exhausted, so fuck it. This is as good as it's going to get.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Honor's Folly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Any discomfort Caitie might have felt at finding the bodies of dead black brothers beyond the Wall was overshadowed when she got a raven from her brothers later that day.</p><p>They were quick to assure their little sister that they missed her, even adding a lengthy paragraph describing how miserable Owen's nameday had been without her wonderfully engaging presence. It was a testament to how well they knew her. Caitie had never been good at resisting flattery.</p><p>The letter was almost reassuring; however, one small detail made her feel uneasy: there was no mention of Arthur—not even a brief sentence. It was most likely nothing serious, but still, Caitie felt a weight in her chest at the thought of it.</p><p>She had little time to stew on the implications, though, because less than an hour later, the contents of the letter from King's Landing spread through Castle Black.</p><p>To say it was grim would be putting it mildly.</p><p>King Robert Baratheon was dead. Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King, and, more importantly, Jon's father had accused his friend's three children of being bastards born of incest to Queen Cersei and her twin brother Jaime. For that, he'd been deemed a traitor to the realm and imprisoned.</p><p>Jon had not taken the news well.</p><p>Caitie had only heard it secondhand from Sam, but apparently, during his kitchen duties the next evening, Jon had run at Thorne with a knife—in front of the lord commander, no less.</p><p>"How did Mormont look, exactly?" she'd pressed Sam. "Angry? Vaguely annoyed? Exasperated?"</p><p>Sam had thought about it. "Sort of... purple. Or maybe that was Ser Alliser."</p><p>She had snorted before she could stop herself. "Grenn stopped him?"</p><p>"Just in time, too."</p><p>Caitie had sighed, rubbing her temples to keep her headache at bay. It wasn't that she blamed Jon for attacking Ser Alliser—she'd be a terrible hypocrite if she did—but if Jon weren't careful, he would hang. "He's going to get himself killed."</p><p>"I'm sure he'll be all right, Kitty."</p><p>Hours later, and Caitie still didn't believe it.</p><p>Of course, so far Mormont had only confined him to quarters. Being the lord commander's favorite <em>and </em>his personal steward put Jon in a better position than most. But if Ned Stark could betray the realm, then anything was possible.</p><p>The idea of him hanging made Caitie feel sick. Jon, for all his brooding—and some mild arrogance—had somehow become her best friend. They bickered and annoyed one another a good third of the time, yes, but it didn't matter. He was her best friend, and the idea of losing him terrified her.</p><p>And that was ignoring the fact that the crown had arrested his father for treason. Ned Stark could end up dead or worse, and Gods only knew what would happen to Jon's sisters, who were stuck in King's Landing, too.</p><p>Caitie couldn't begin to fathom how awful it must be.</p><p>So, to both reassure herself and make sure he was okay after the altercation, she had snuck into the kitchens, stolen a rather large bottle of ale, and started towards her friend's quarters, moving as silently as she could.</p><p>Caitie had always been good at sneaking. She knew which shadows would conceal her, which steps would give away her position, when to hide or risk moving. Her time skulking through the shadows to steal desserts from the kitchens or into the courtyard to destroy training dummies had prepared her well.</p><p>That was to say, she had no trouble finding her way to Jon's quarters without being caught.</p><p>When she got there, Caitie approached the door, knocked quietly, and waited. Jon opened it not half a second later. He gave her a weary look and said, a little cuttingly, "Come to tell me what I did was stupid?"</p><p>Caitie decided to ignore his tone of voice. She only raised an eyebrow and held out the bottle.</p><p>Jon looked at his feet sheepishly. "Oh. Thank you."</p><p>"It was the least I could do after yesterday."</p><p>He beckoned her into the room—so small Caitie barely had room to stand—shut the door, then plopped himself down on his bed beside Ghost. Caitie didn't say a word as he took a long drink.</p><p>"What was I <em>thinking</em>, falling for Thorne's taunts?" He bemoaned.</p><p>"I can't blame you," she said, trying her best to sound reassuring. "From everything I've heard, what he said was despicable."</p><p>"I should've known better."</p><p>"He called your father a traitor. I would've done the same in your position."</p><p>Jon seemed to find the comment amusing. "You'd do more than that," he said, chuckling ironically. "I'd bet three gold dragons that if it were you, Thorne would be dead."</p><p>Caitie rolled her eyes, but she also smiled as best she could. Anything she could do to make this situation less terrible for him, she would, even if it meant allowing a bit of ribbing.</p><p>Jon went silent and frowned. Then, "Do you think my father—do you think he did what they're saying?"</p><p>"Do you?"</p><p>"I asked you first."</p><p>She sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I only ever met Lord Stark once, and I barely said two words to him. But Owen always told me he was the most honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms."</p><p>"He is," Jon agreed. "And those southerners…"</p><p>"Are not."</p><p>"Aye."</p><p>There was nothing she could say to make it any less horrid.</p><p>What a mess this was, she thought. A horrifying mess that would most likely end in pain for her friend.</p><p>And Caitie was powerless to do anything about it.</p><p>Jon broke her out of her thoughts by asking, "My sisters are in King's Landing. What do you think will happen to them?"</p><p>"I don't know." And then, without really thinking about it, she added, "I'm not sure I want to."</p><p>Caitie winced as she realized her lack of tact, but Jon only sighed sadly and replied, "Me neither."</p><p>"You said Sansa was to marry the prince—or king now, I suppose—yes? She should be protected, then." It was naively hopeful, but Caitie had to say <em>something</em> comforting.</p><p>"You think the king would marry a 'traitor's' daughter?" he asked, unconvinced.</p><p>"How else will he keep the North in line?"</p><p>Jon stared at the bottle of ale and frowned thoughtfully. "Does that mean he'll keep my father alive, too? And Arya?"</p><p>Caitie wasn't sure how to answer his question. She didn't know anything about Joffrey Baratheon, or—if Ned Stark was to be believed—Joffrey Waters. But dislike of the Lannisters was the only thing her father and his eldest sons ever agreed upon, and so she knew: no one with Lannister blood was ever to be trusted.</p><p>Of course, Caitie couldn't say this to Jon. She wanted to reassure him, not increase his anxiety, so she decided to be vague. "If he's smart."</p><p>"You're just saying that to make me feel better, aren't you?"</p><p>"I am not!"</p><p>He laughed despite himself at her indignation, and Caitie rolled her eyes again.</p><p>"Just think about it," she continued. "What would the king gain from killing your family? A bunch of angry Starks and all their bannermen." She stopped abruptly, realizing the full implications of what that meant.</p><p>Jon seemed to realize, too. "Your brothers," he said forlornly.</p><p>Caitie shook her head, trying to convince herself that there was a way through this without a war. "The last thing Joffrey needs is the entire North rising up against him while he's trying to keep his claim on the throne—especially if other Baratheons take up arms against him," she said. "No… if he's smart, he'll spare your father as long as he admits to lying and then keep him and your sisters hostage until your brother pledges fealty. And then they'll be able to go home."</p><p>It was possible, wasn't it? Robb Stark would pledge fealty, and the king could let Jon's father and at least one of his sisters return to Winterfell.</p><p>For Caitriona, though, the most crucial part was that her brothers would be safe at Norwood.</p><p>"You believe that?" Jon asked, and she knew he didn't in the slightest.</p><p>Caitie tried to tell herself that she did, in fact, believe it. After all, coming to Castle Black turned out much better than she could ever have dreamed. Why shouldn't this go right, as well? At the same time, however… "I don't know," she admitted, crestfallen. "But what's the alternative? I <em>really </em>don't want to think about it. Do you?"</p><p>"No," he sighed, "I don't," before taking the largest gulp of ale Caitie had ever seen.</p><p>"Don't go through it all at once," she said, trying to distract from the worries she now had. "I don't want to raise suspicions, so it'll be a while before I can get more for you."</p><p>Jon swallowed the ale. "Caitie? Thank you."</p><p>"You won't be thanking me tomorrow if you drink too much."</p><p>He shuddered at the thought of an ale-induced headache and set the bottle down on his nightstand.</p><p>They sat in heavy silence for a few more minutes before Jon said, "I wish Uncle Benjen were here."</p><p>"We'll find him." Dead or alive, she thought.</p><p>"We'd have to go north."</p><p>"So, we'll go north." It was said with more confidence than she felt.</p><p>Jon snorted. "It's that easy?"</p><p>Caitie thought back to the day before and her fear of the Haunted Forest. "No," she admitted, sighing. "As much as I wish it were, sadly, it isn't. I'm sorry, I wish..." She couldn't even begin to put everything she wished for into a single sentence. "I wish I had a better answer for you."</p><p>Jon stared down at the floor. "My uncle's gone, isn't he?"</p><p>"You don't know that," she said. "Maybe he'll find a way home." Caitie's skepticism prevented her from believing it, but she knew it was what Jon needed to hear.</p><p>"Maybe," he said.</p><p>The same silence took over again, allowing Caitie to realize how long she'd been there. "Well," she said, "as much as I wish I could keep you company, I'd better go before someone discovers I'm here." As she stood up, she cracked a small grin to try and break the tension. "Do try to keep your temper under control."</p><p>He snorted. "Me? What about you?"</p><p>"I'm not the one who ran at the master at arms with a knife," she pointed out wryly. He had no retort to that. "Just be careful, okay? I'd notice if you were gone."</p><p>Jon smiled mirthlessly. "I'll try."</p><p>Caitie put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Jon, I know it doesn't mean much, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry."</p><p>He looked up at her with the saddest expression Caitie had ever seen on him and said, "So am I."</p><p>She squeezed Jon's shoulder, removed her hand, and as quickly and quietly as she could, went back to her own quarters, thoroughly exhausted.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now, I know what you're thinking: "Ugh, stop making Caitie a Mary Sue." But I have two reasons for her political insight.</p><p>1. I take great joy in giving her hope when I know exactly how shitty Westeros is about to get. I guess I'm a mean person.</p><p>2. I find it funny to call attention to how stupidly obvious the politics in the south are (specifically in S1). Seriously, if Joffrey hadn't been the peak of dumbassery (and sociopathy), the whole war could have been avoided. That being said, Caitie thinking Robb would ever ride south and bend the knee is just childhood innocence. I don't think that's something someone with experience would believe could happen.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. War and Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As if Ned Stark's arrest wasn't enough, everything in Westeros seemed to be falling to pieces. It started one morning, while Caitie was at breakfast, sitting alone eating the sludge she was slowly getting used to calling food. Seeing that it was sunny outside—a rare occasion—she had thought it meant something good was on the horizon.</p><p>She should have known better.</p><p>Caitie had just forced herself to take a third spoonful when Jon sat down beside her, solemn and on edge. Ghost padded along behind him. He seemed just as tense as his master, but he still allowed Caitie to toss him a bit of food.</p><p>Jon cleared his throat. "I've been pardoned."</p><p>"That's good to hear," Caitie said, smiling in relief. "I was worried I'd have to break you out."</p><p>"Ha. Right."</p><p>She ignored his comment and set down her spoon. "What convinced the lord commander? I assume it wasn't your charisma."</p><p>Jon held out his sword hand so she could see. It was wrapped tightly, encased in thick, white bandages.</p><p>"Seven Hells, Jon. What did you do?"</p><p>"Othor attacked Mormont. I saved his life."</p><p>Caitie almost checked Jon's forehead for a fever right then. "Um… Jon, you know Othor is dead, right?"</p><p>"He <em>was</em> dead," Jon agreed. "But that didn't stop him from trying to kill the lord commander."</p><p>"I see."</p><p>"His eyes had turned blue. I stuck my sword through his chest, but he just got back up again. He didn't fall until I threw the lord commander's lantern at him."</p><p>Caitie was silent as she took in what he was saying. A wight—he was describing a wight.</p><p>No, Jon had to have gotten confused, somehow. As much as he was her friend, she had to admit he was never the most observant person.</p><p>Yes, there were old stories about White Walkers and dead men coming to life, but they were just stories, weren't they?</p><p>But then Caitie remembered how strange the circumstances had been—between the lack of rot and where the bodies had been found. There was a sense of wrongness that had emanated from them—though she hadn't known why at the time. Her instincts had told her something was off, and it seemed her instincts had been right.</p><p>"I believe you," she said.</p><p>Jon shut his eyes and sighed in relief. "Thank you."</p><p>Before she could reply, Caitie heard a sharp breath behind them.</p><p>"Gods be good, Jon, what did you do to your hand?" They both turned to the newcomer—Sam. He was staring at Jon's injury with wide eyes.</p><p>Jon repeated the story for Sam. His eyes widened even further as Jon spoke. When he'd finished the story, Sam asked question after question until, finally, he nodded resolutely and went quiet.</p><p>That was how Caitie knew Sam believed Jon, too.</p><p>"They were touched by White Walkers," he said later that day as they and their friends watched the bodies burn on a pyre just outside the Wall. Rast had also joined them, but Caitie chose to ignore his presence.</p><p>In the time between breakfast and the funeral, the sky had gone from sunny to a gloomy grey. It was fitting, she supposed. An omen for something terrible; something she couldn't quite put her finger on—winter, maybe.</p><p>"That's why they came back," Sam continued. "That's why their eyes turned blue. Only fire will stop them."</p><p>She shuddered and thought of her own eyes—which were also a pale blue. Would they change color if she were killed and touched by a White Walker? Or would they stay the same as they used her to kill everyone she'd ever loved?</p><p>Not wanting to continue the line of thought, she forced herself to listen as Jon asked, "How do you know that?"</p><p>"I read about it in a book—a very old book in Maester Aemon's library."</p><p>"What else did the book say?"</p><p>Sam took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke, though he didn't take his eyes off the pyre. "The White Walkers sleep beneath the ice for thousands of years. And when they wake up..."</p><p>"And when they wake up—what?" Pyp asked.</p><p>All Sam could offer was, "I hope the Wall is high enough."</p><p>Caitie had felt colder ever since the conversation, but the fear of White Walkers and the army of the dead was nothing compared to the terror she felt when the letter came that same evening. It was so heavily coded; it took Caitie forty minutes to decipher it. By the time she finally managed the feat and finished reading it, she felt as if she was going to retch, or perhaps faint.</p><p>The North was going to war, and so too were Owen and Cerys Norrey.</p><p>The thought kept repeating itself, over and over again—war. At first, Caitie had refused to think it real—it had to be some idiotic, inappropriate trick of Cerys's—but then she had found Sam in the dining hall, and one look at his face let her know it was the truth. Maester Aemon had even gotten his own letter informing him of the coming battle.</p><p>It felt to her as if the ground was spinning. How could she have gotten her prediction so bloody wrong?</p><p>Caitie knew Sam was watching her worriedly from across the table, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything—to even move. All she could do was stare down at her hands, taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep her chest from constricting too tightly.</p><p>She barely heard the door slam and the others asking to see Jon's new sword—Longclaw. There had been whispers all morning that the lord commander would be giving Ned Stark's son his family's sword. They began to chant the word repeatedly, waiting for Jon to unveil it. Under any other circumstance, Caitie might've been fascinated by the Valyrian steel weapon, but not today.</p><p>She heard a whooshing noise and cheering, and then Jon was sitting across from her, next to Sam, while their other friends fought over who got to hold Longclaw.</p><p>"What is it?" He looked between the two of them, taking in their gloominess.</p><p>Caitie didn't trust herself to say anything and decided to let Sam do the talking. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and then finally said, "I can't."</p><p>"You can't what?"</p><p>"I—I'm really not supposed to say."</p><p>Jon sighed. "And yet, you really want to say. You want to say that…"</p><p>When Sam still hesitated, Caitie lost her patience with him. "Well," she snapped, "if you're too afraid to tell him, then I will."</p><p>Both men stared at her. She had never sounded so vicious towards Sam before—not since the night he'd found out about her.</p><p>"What is it?" Jon repeated, now thoroughly alarmed.</p><p>Sam broke, and it came tumbling out. "There was a raven—I read the message to Maester Aemon. It's your brother, Robb."</p><p>"What? What about him?"</p><p>As Sam explained the situation, Caitie saw Jon's expression grow to match how she felt. "All his bannermen have rallied to his side. They'll keep him safe," Sam assured him.</p><p>Caitie crossed her arms and mumbled, "And get themselves killed doing so."</p><p>"What was that?" Sam asked innocently.</p><p>"Nothing."</p><p>He stared at her, unnerved by her sudden coldness towards him, but Caitie wasn't in the mood to care.</p><p>"I should be there," Jon said. "I should be with him."</p><p>She hugged her arms to herself and nodded in agreement. "So should I."</p><p>Owen and Cerys had inferred, rather unstealthily, that she shouldn't do anything reckless—that there was nothing to fear. But the assurance was a lie, and she wished she could yell at them for thinking her stupid enough to believe it.</p><p>"You can't! Neither of you!" Sam exclaimed. He turned to Jon. "You'll be executed. And you—" Sam stopped, eyeing Rast and his band of fellow rapists seated at the other table. Caitie didn't need to hear his next words to know what he was going to say.</p><p>She lowered her voice to a hiss. "If my brothers die, I'll never get to say goodbye, and Arthur will be all alone."</p><p>"And I have a duty to my father and my brother," Jon added.</p><p>Sam sighed exasperatedly at them. "Your duty is here now. You swore an oath—you both did."</p><p>Caitie almost growled something unsavory at him, but then she reminded herself that Sam was only saying these things because he cared about them. He didn't want her or Jon to die.</p><p>"I need to be alone," she choked out.</p><p>Sam frowned. "Caitie—"</p><p>She held up a hand to stop him. "I'm not going to leave. I just—I need to be by myself."</p><p>His frown deepened, but he didn't stop Caitie as she fled.</p><p>Once alone in the stables, with only the horses and Ghost for company, she allowed herself to cry.</p><hr/><p>The next two weeks went by so slowly, it was torturous. Caitie spent most of her time not spent on duty anxiously waiting for new information. She didn't know if her brothers could even get a message to her, but she figured that eventually, news of the aftermath would spread to Castle Black. Until then, however, the only thing she could do besides waiting was to worry.</p><p>Whenever Sam or Pyp tried to make light conversation, all Caitie could manage were one-word sentences. Even Grenn couldn't seem to bring her to elicit more than two words at once. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force herself to act cheery. Her thoughts were so consumed with the fear of her two brothers lying dead on a battlefield; she barely noticed her surroundings most of the time.</p><p>Caitie wasn't the only one in such a foul mood, though. Jon, like her, had decided to stay at Castle Black, but he was even more frustrated than she, and quicker to anger. The two of them spent most of their time hidden away in the pantry with Ghost, not speaking, not even moving, really. Every second felt like a step closer to the inevitable—to the death of their families.</p><p>Caitie had to admit, she was glad to have someone around who understood—and who was more than willing not to make idle conversation.</p><p>Finally, after what felt like a hundred years, news reached them. A letter for Maester Aemon and Lord Commander Mormont came, and Sam snuck it to them that night as they sat in the pantry.</p><p>"We'll open it together?" Jon asked. Ghost whined and placed his head on his master's lap.</p><p>Caitie took a deep breath, placed her hand over his, and together, they unscrolled the parchment. While the letter accounted for all the events of the Battle of Whispering Wood, it took only seconds to read.</p><p>The North had won.</p><p>The Norrey men had remained in Robb's vanguard, and most had lived—including Caitie's father and brothers. She nearly cried with relief as she read the list of casualties and didn't see her brothers' names. If Cerys could see her reaction, he would have scoffed at her for worrying, offended that she thought so little of his skills.</p><p>Robb had made it through the battle, as well. He'd split his army in two, sending the smaller party to lead Tywin Lannister's army away from Whispering Wood, allowing the larger party to defeat and capture Jaime Lannister: the pride of his house, the Kingslayer, and one of the best warriors in the whole of Westeros.</p><p>Two-thousand Northmen had died in the battle with Tywin's forces, but even Caitie had to admit it was smart of Robb. At this point, she was just glad he'd kept her brothers alive.</p><p>The news granted such a relief to both her and Jon, they spent the entire night celebrating with Sam in the pantry, not bothering to keep quiet. Caitie didn't know how many times they toasted their drinks with, "Fuck the Lannisters!" but she was sure it was at least twice.</p><p>For the next four days, everything felt light, and Caitie was almost sure things would turn out okay. But then, on the fifth day, a raven came early in the morning, with the worst news of all.</p><p>Lord Eddard of House Stark was dead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We knew it was coming, but still, it's sad. Poor Ned, he lost his head.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Into the Beyond</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon hadn't been seen since news of Ned Stark's death reached them. As soon as the raven had come, he had walked off in a trance-like state and had not left his chambers since. While it was worrisome, Caitie figured that he would want to be alone, and so hadn't sought him out.</p><p>That very same night, muffled shouting from outside her door woke her. Caitie rubbed her eyes and listened. The shouting was getting further and further away, but she recognized the voices: Sam and Jon.</p><p>Caitie flung open her door and raced down to the courtyard to see what was happening. Sam lay sprawled on the ground by the open gate. Jon was nowhere in sight. For a scary second, she thought Sam might be hurt, but then he groaned and sat up. Caitie extended a hand, and he took it gratefully.</p><p>"Did he—" she started once Sam was standing, but he cut her off.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Caitie was at a loss for words, but Sam seemed to have thought out a plan already. "Get the horses ready. I'll find Grenn and Pyp."</p><p>She was in such a state of shock; she didn't register the command.</p><p>"Now, Caitie!" he bellowed.</p><p>She blinked, finally taking in Sam's words, and rushed off the stables to do as he asked.</p><p>Sam reappeared, along with the two others, in what seemed like no time at all. The four of them wordlessly mounted their horses to chase after Jon, who made it very clear he did not want to be followed. He kept urging his horse to go faster, refusing to turn back as they called to him. It wasn't until Sam hit a branch and fell off his own mount that the sound of Jon's horse galloping away stopped.</p><p>"Is he dead?" Pyp asked.</p><p>Caitie scrambled off her horse and ran over to where Sam was lying in the snow. "Seven Hells, he'd better not be."</p><p>Thankfully, Sam, who was very much not dead, answered. "Did we get him?"</p><p>Grenn dismounted and tried to help him stand, ignoring the question. "Come on, help me get him up."</p><p>"Lucky you've got plenty of padding," Pyp said as he and Caitie came over to help.</p><p>Just as they had gotten Sam on his feet, Jon appeared before them, with Ghost at his side. Caitie held back and watched as the rest of them tried to convince Jon to stay, as she didn't trust herself to speak.</p><p>Pyp tried first. "We're taking you back to where you belong."</p><p>"I belong with my brother."</p><p>"But we're your brothers now," argued Sam.</p><p>"They'll kill you if they find out you've gone," Grenn said.</p><p>"They'll kill <em>you</em> if they know you came after me. Go back."</p><p>Caitie had never heard Jon sound quite so cold, but that didn't stop Pyp from trying again. "Sam told us everything," he said kindly. "We're sorry about your father."</p><p>"But it doesn't matter." Grenn shook his head, less interested in being polite than his friend. "You took the oath; you can't leave."</p><p>"I have to."</p><p>"You <em>can't</em>. You said the words."</p><p>"I don't care about—"</p><p>Sam cut the rest of Jon's statement off, chanting the Night's Watch vows. "Hear my words and bear witness to my vow."</p><p>"To hell with all of you," Jon replied angrily in response.</p><p>The others joined in reciting the Black, but Caitie still couldn't speak. The truth was, she didn't blame Jon for leaving. A part of her even wanted to tell him to go and take her, too. It wasn't fair the two of them were stuck at the Wall while the people they loved threw themselves into danger or died. Why was it so wrong to want to protect their families? Why couldn't they be loyal to both the Night's Watch and their loved ones?</p><p>Honor was the answer, but staying didn't<em> feel</em> honorable. And it certainly didn't feel like the right thing to do.</p><p>Gods, Owen would be furious if he knew her thoughts.</p><p>Not that it mattered, anyhow, because Jon finally relented and agreed to come back with them. As they all mounted their horses, he noticed Caitie, but she avoided his gaze. She felt too guilty, and, if she was being honest, too angry—at the king, at the Night's Watch, at the whole situation.</p><p>"What is it?" He sounded so tired, so defeated.</p><p>Honor, she thought—stupid, bloody honor.</p><p>She didn't tell him that. Instead, she only sighed, "Come on. Let's go home."</p><hr/><p>Caitie was so tired from the night's events; she could barely think as she tended to the horses in the stables.</p><p>Technically, she wasn't even on duty, but she needed to decipher her emotions regarding, well, everything. Grooming horses was a mindless, calming practice, and it allowed her to relax and think.</p><p>After returning to Castle Black, Jon had gone to his quarters, asking not to be disturbed. Meanwhile, Sam went to the rookery, only to find a raven from the Northern forces. When he told Caitie the contents of the letter, she'd gone to the stables, knowing no one would be there at such an early hour.</p><p>The North and Riverlands had proclaimed Robb Stark King in the North and King of the Trident after his victory at Whispering Wood. They were going to secede from the Seven Kingdoms. After three hundred years, it seemed the North would be an independent kingdom again.</p><p>Owen and Cerys—staunch Northmen—would love that. Caitie wasn't certain how her father would feel.</p><p>True, it was possible they could sue for peace with Ser Jaime as their prisoner, but that seemed... unlikely. The only alternative was full-out war. As much as she liked the idea of a free North—no self-respecting Northwoman would feel otherwise—she'd choose to have her brothers safe, at home over it, any day.</p><p>"Your friend said you'd be here."</p><p>Caitie forced herself not to jump in surprise. She took a deep breath and turned to face none other than Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. Light streamed through the door to the stables—she'd been there for longer than she thought.</p><p>M'lord," she said, forcing herself not to curtsy as a reflex. "Which friend do you mean?"</p><p>It was a stupid question. There was no other option except Jon. But Caitie was too nervous to think of a better response. The lord commander had obviously asked after her, and Caitie couldn't help but fear that he'd come to confront her.</p><p>"Jon Snow," he said as if he thought her a simpleton. Then he changed the subject. "You're not supposed to be on duty."</p><p>Caitie nodded and looked down at her feet. "There's a lot to do here," she said vaguely.</p><p>"There'll be more soon enough."</p><p>She furrowed her eyebrows at the ominous sentence.</p><p>"We're going north," Mormont explained.</p><p>"North?"</p><p>"Beyond the Wall. Are you daft, boy?" he snapped when she only looked more confused, but there was no real edge to it.</p><p>"No, m'lord." Caitie tried to calm her beating heart and keep her composure. "Only surprised."</p><p>She didn't include that she was also more than a little afraid of him.</p><p>The lord commander rubbed his temple. "You'll be coming too. And your friends, Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly." He looked the stables up and down. "Someone'll need to take care of the horses."</p><p>Caitie opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't figure out what to say. She didn't know why Mormont was telling her this—or why he had come to speak to her at all. He could have just told One-eyed Joe to relay the order.</p><p>"Don't look so cowed," he added, noticing her hesitancy.</p><p>"Apologies, m'lord. I... suppose I'll be ready."</p><p>The lord commander nodded curtly. He turned to leave but changed his mind—facing her again. "You're a good fighter," he said. "You'll need that, north."</p><p>And before she could utter a single word, Lord Commander Mormont was gone.</p><hr/><p>It seemed Jon and Caitie's discussion weeks earlier would be coming to fruition. But as the day went by and she thought more about going beyond the Wall, she became more worried. There was no way to get a letter to Owen and Cerys—no way to tell them she was leaving Castle Black. Even if she knew where the Northern army was camped, the risk of her letter falling into the wrong hands was much higher than just sending it to the brothel near Norwood like usual. Coded or not, she didn't want to risk it.</p><p>Caitie had, therefore, resigned herself to the notion that her brothers wouldn't know where she had gone. It wasn't until when Sam walked into the pantry that night and gave her a small smile that she found a small sliver of hope.</p><p>"A letter for you," he said, handing her a scroll.</p><p>Caitie took it gingerly and opened it, not sure what to expect.</p><p>The letter consisted of only five words, signed <em>O</em>, <em>C</em>, and <em>A</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Be safe. We love you.</em>
</p><p>Well, that didn't make sense. Unless… Mormont must have sent ravens out, informing Westeros of their expedition. How word could have spread so quickly, Caitie didn't know, but she didn't care enough to parse it out.</p><p>Sam leaned over her shoulder and read the words. "Aw, that's very sweet."</p><p>She was about to agree, but before she could, tears sprang to her eyes. Caitie tried to push them back, whimpering frustratedly when she couldn't. It felt as if all she did was cry lately, and she felt incredibly weak for it.</p><p>Sam put an arm around her. "Shh, it's okay."</p><p>"Sorry," she said when the sniffling died down. "I just miss them."</p><p>"Of course you do, Kitty."</p><p>As she stared at the little scroll, a thought occurred to her. "Have you sent a raven home to your mother?"</p><p>Sam hesitated. "I don't want to worry her."</p><p>"You should," Caitie said. "You might not be able to send her one for a while."</p><p>He still hesitated.</p><p>"If my brothers were going north of the Wall and they didn't tell me, I'd kill them both. And I'd make it as agonizing as possible. Besides," she continued, shrugging, "you can tell your father that <em>you're</em> going to the dangerous lands of the far north while<em> he</em> sits on his ass doing nothing of value at Horn Hill."</p><p>Sam laughed. "All right. I'll send a raven later tonight."</p><p>"Good." She stared back down at her letter, reading the five words over and over again. It was Owen's handwriting, but Cerys had written the <em>C</em> and the <em>A</em>. It saddened her that Arthur hadn't signed the letter himself, but she doubted he would be able to sign his own name if he was still back at Norwood.</p><p>Caitie looked back up at Sam and asked, "Do you think I should take this with me?"</p><p>"You wouldn't want to lose it. Why don't we hide it somewhere? Or give it to Maester Aemon to keep safe."</p><p>She nodded slowly, considering. It wasn't as if Maester Aemon could read it, and even if someone did, there was no sensitive information. "That's a good idea."</p><p>It took a while, as Caitie was rambling, and the old maester had to tell her to slow a few times so he could understand, but eventually, she explained her situation. Maester Aemon agreed to keep the letter hidden away until she returned, and Caitie was able to get a restful night's sleep. A good thing, too, considering that all those going north had to wake before dawn.</p><p>She dressed quickly, made her way into the courtyard, found her horse, and was saddling it when Jon found her. He looked worn out, with dark circles under his eyes and even more brooding than usual.</p><p>"I haven't seen you since yesterday," he said.</p><p>"I thought you'd want to be alone. I know I would." Jon didn't answer, so she continued. "I'm so sorry about your father."</p><p>"I'm going to miss him," he said. She could've sworn his eyes were watery, though it may well have been her imagination.</p><p>He shook his head and took a deep breath. "What about you? You all right?"</p><p>Caitie almost laughed. Jon looked like hell, and he was asking if she was okay? "You don't need to worry about me."</p><p>"That's not an answer."</p><p>She closed her eyes and finally allowed the emotions she'd been keeping bottled up to wash over her. "I'm scared," she admitted in a whisper. "All the time. Of going north, of the war, of being found out—everything."</p><p>"Me too."</p><p>"It's all gone to shit so quickly. I thought when Robb captured Jaime Lannister, the war would be over, but..." Caitie trailed off, sighing.</p><p>Jon nodded. "The North is going to be free. My brother is king. Seven Hells, I can't believe it."</p><p>As much as he tried to hide it, Caitie still detected an undertone of jealousy.</p><p>"Well," she said, hoping to improve his mood, "it's not every day you become a prince."</p><p>He knit his brows together. "I'm a bastard."</p><p>"Ah, you see, but now you're a <em>royal</em> bastard."</p><p>"You've been waiting all morning to say that, haven't you?"</p><p>"No... a little," she admitted. "Really though, your brother is a king. That means you're a prince—to me, anyway."</p><p>Jon snorted. "It's because you're mad."</p><p>Caitie eyed their surroundings, and when she was convinced no one could see, she curtsied. "As you say, your highness."</p><p>He glowered at her, but Caitie knew by now Jon glowered the hardest when he was trying to hide his amusement. Soon enough, the corners of his mouth turned upwards.</p><p>"Do you think he'll be a good king?" she asked, sobering. In the memories she had, Robb was a bit of an ass. But embarrassment clouded her memory of him. It may not have been fair.</p><p>"He will," Jon replied.</p><p>She wasn't going to say anything more, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Jon? Do you think they'll win?" She felt childish asking, but she just couldn't help it.</p><p>"They have to," he said simply.</p><p>It wasn't a good answer, but she knew it was the best Jon could provide.</p><p>"I suppose so."</p><p>Neither said anything more, and Caitie went back to securing her saddle.</p><p>Eventually, Sam found the pair. He looked terrified—ashen-faced and wide-eyed, but he was trying his best to hide it. He attempted a smile, but it came off more like a grimace.</p><p>Caitie wondered how he'd been so calm the night before, and then she realized Sam had been pretending for her sake. Sometimes she forgot that he was four years older—more akin to Cerys than Arthur. Perhaps he was trying to protect her as much as she was him.</p><p>"It'll be all right," she promised, trying to seem more confident than she felt. Sam didn't look convinced. "We'll watch out for each other. That's what friends do, isn't it?"</p><p>"Aye," Jon agreed solemnly. "We will." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder in a comradely gesture.</p><p>Caitie looked between the two men who had become her best friends and wondered how she'd managed to get so lucky. "We'll get through this," she said. "Together."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Calm Before a Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caitriona stared at her reflection in a frozen pond a little ways away from camp and frowned at her appearance. Somehow, in the weeks since going north, her face had become even paler than before. The splash of freckles across her nose stood out against the milky complexion, and her blue eyes looked more prominent than ever, though that was more to do with the dark circles underneath them. Her lips were chapped and sore, her cheekbones sharper, and her dimples had scarcely been seen for weeks—proof that traveling beyond the Wall had taken its toll.</p><p>The ranging party slept outdoors in the cold, and despite her oversized leathers and warm black cloak, it was chilling to the bone at night. During the day, they were almost always on the move, waking up at dawn and not resting until the last of the light had disappeared, with only one break a day.</p><p>It didn't help morale when they came across multiple different Wildling villages, all abandoned. Every time they passed one, the lord commander would become more and more troubled, and the other men would mutter amongst themselves, debating the cause of the disappearances in low, nervous voices. It was all very depressing.</p><p>Still, in some ways, it was... freeing being north of the Wall. All the problems back in Westeros felt like a fuzzy dream, from which she'd finally woken. There was no chance of her father finding her anymore. While she missed the letters from her brothers and worried about them constantly, the war seemed much further away here. It was so calm—almost eerily so. But despite it, and to Caitie's surprise, her fears started to dissipate. Not a lot, but enough so that she was able to keep a clear head.</p><p>The only thing that was well and truly bothering Caitie stared back at her from the pond. The slight waviness of her hair made it look a little shorter than it was, but not enough that she could let it grow much longer. It was back to being a little below her shoulders, which meant that Caitie needed it cut, and soon.</p><p>She had tried—unsuccessfully—to deal with her hair herself a few months earlier, but had only come very close to accidentally slitting her own throat. More importantly, her hair ended up looking even worse than when Cerys hastily cut it. Caitie may have to pose as a boy, but an ugly, uneven chop was more than she could bear—not to mention the accidental near-suicide.</p><p>No, she had learned her lesson.</p><p>The problem was that Caitie didn't know who to ask for help. She was surrounded by men, none of which had an appreciation for the art, and none whom she could trust with her tresses. The only person she did trust—her septa—was Gods only knew how many leagues away. Caitie had no love for the old bat, but at least the woman knew what she was doing when it came to this sort of thing.</p><p>She sighed when she heard boots crunching in the snow, as she was not in the mood to be disturbed. But then a large, white direwolf with red eyes came padding towards her. Ghost licked Caitie's face, making her smile, and then ran back to stand at his master's side.</p><p>The sight of Jon gave her an idea.</p><p>He was always fluffing his hair, looking in the mirror to make sure it was just right whenever he had the chance. Half the time, she was pretty sure he didn't even realize it. Jon was almost as obsessed with his hair as Caitie was with hers. If anyone could cut her hair without messing it up, it was him.</p><p>"Good timing," she said, beckoning him over. Jon made his way to her and set down the elk carcass he was carrying. "I need a favor."</p><p>He stared at her suspiciously. "A favor?"</p><p>"That <em>is</em> what I just said, isn't it? My hair is getting too long, and it'll start looking—" Caitie lowered her voice, "—you know, soon. Could you cut it for me?"</p><p>Jon didn't answer.</p><p>"Please?"</p><p>Jon sighed. "Oh, all right," he said. Caitie held out her dagger, and he took it. "How much do you want off?"</p><p>She thought for a moment before answering. "Keep it at my chin." Caitie couldn't bring herself to have it any shorter than that. Even chin-length was pushing the boundaries of her comfort.</p><p>Jon nodded and knelt behind her, then took a section of her hair. He pressed the dagger to it.</p><p>Caitie would say this for Jon: he appreciated the art of hair. He took his time, frowning and measuring. Every so often he would stop and pull back to observe or fluff it.</p><p>"You know," she said after a while because she was starting to get bored, "you're quite good at this." Caitie stared down at their reflection in the pond. The half of her hair that he'd cut looked good. Jon was so busy focusing; he didn't hear her. "I have to say, if you ever got tired of the Night's Watch, you would make a brilliant septa."</p><p>That got his attention. "What?"</p><p>"I'm serious. In fact, I think I could see you as one. Their ugly grey gowns would suit you. Of course, you'd have to learn to sew."</p><p>"You're insane, do you know that?" Jon said incredulously.</p><p>"My apologies, Septa. I didn't mean to offend."</p><p>He paused for a moment. Then, "Do you really want to antagonize the man cutting your hair?"</p><p>She rolled her eyes. "Have I ever told you that you have no sense of humor?"</p><p>"Once or twice," he said dryly. "Now, would you please hold still?"</p><p>"Sorry, sorry." Caitie held up her hands in surrender.</p><p>He picked up another section of hair and said, "I should tell Grenn about Robb's fifteenth nameday, just for that comment."</p><p>She knew he wouldn't, but Caitie still immediately whipped her head around to face him and scowled. "Don't you <em>dare</em>."</p><p>Jon chuckled and forced her to turn back around so he could finish his work.</p><p>Well, she thought, at least he seemed in better spirits than a week earlier. This was the first time Caitie had seen him show any emotion other than stoicism. Perhaps she wasn't the only one who felt freer out beyond the Wall.</p><p>They sat in companionable silence until, after a few more minutes, Jon proclaimed, "I'm finished."</p><p>Caitie peered into the pond and inspected her hair. Apart from the fact that it was too short and made her seem dreadfully boyish, it looked good. Better than good, honestly. If Caitie could convince him, she'd never let anyone else but Jon touch her locks again.</p><p>"Thank you. I owe you for this," she said, giving him a quick side hug.</p><p>Jon nodded in agreement. "Aye, you do."</p><p>Suddenly, Ghost lifted his head and stood unmoving, staring at a fixed point. Then they heard another set of boots crunching in the show, and Grenn came into view.</p><p>"There you both are," he said. "The lord commander sent me to get you. He says if we leave now and make good time, we'll be at Craster's Keep tomorrow."</p><p>Caitie stood up, Jon echoing her movement. She took one last look at her reflection, before following her friends back to camp.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is just a short, fluffy chapter about two friends being silly before things go nuts. Sorry, it's kind of inconsequential (and honestly, a bit out of place), but I needed a breather from all the sadness and crap before things get crazy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Craster's Keep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ranging party arrived at Craster's Keep the next day, as promised—and just in time to preserve Caitie's sanity.</p><p>Sam had been complaining for three hours about blisters he'd gotten sitting on his horse. He didn't stop until Grenn offered him a ride on the Watch's sledge; but then Sam broke it, and that led to the two of them sniping at each other as they approached.</p><p>"You offered me a ride!" Sam exclaimed.</p><p>Grenn scoffed. "I just wanted you to shut up about your damn blisters."</p><p>Listening to the two of them bicker like children annoyed her so much, she didn't even offer to help Grenn fix the sledge; not that he needed much help, she noticed. He was definitely strong enough on his own.</p><p>Instead, Caitie only followed Jon to the gate, dismounted her horse, and looked around at the first proper building she'd seen north of the Wall.</p><p>"I was born in a keep like this," a man named Dolorous Edd told them.</p><p>On the second evening of travel, Edd had plopped himself down at her and her friends' fire and started cracking wry jokes. They'd enjoyed his company so much, they invited him to sit with them the next night, and then the next. He never ceased to make them laugh. Well, all of them except Jon. He was a pleasant addition to their little group, considering Pyp had stayed behind at Castle Black. In some ways, she even preferred Edd's sense of humor—it was blunt, dry, and much less focused on Sam's weight.</p><p>He wasn't in a humorous mood now, though. None of them were. They were just tired and ready to camp somewhere with a roof.</p><p>"Later, I fell on hard times."</p><p>Caitie wasn't sure what to say to that, so she turned away and looked at her surroundings. It was a bleak sight. The Keep was smaller than she'd expected; made of wood instead of stone, and its grounds were nothing like those of Norwood. There were no mountains, no godswood, and the entirety of Craster's was smaller than her childhood keep's main hall. Caitie probably should have known better, but a small part of her had been hoping for a little taste of home.</p><p>Then she noticed the women; there were at least twenty of them. They bustled around the keep grounds in drab clothing, pointedly not making eye contact with any of the men.</p><p>Sam noticed too. "Are those girls?"</p><p>"Craster's daughters," Edd said.</p><p>"I haven't seen a girl in six months." There was no hint of irony in Sam's voice, but he nudged her subtly, and it took all of Caitie's willpower to stifle her laugh.</p><p>"I'd keep on not seeing them if I were you."</p><p>"What, he don't like people messing with his daughters?" Grenn said beside her. He didn't take his eyes off them, and Caitie gritted her teeth. She didn't like the way he was looking at the women—though not necessarily for the right reasons.</p><p>"He don't like people messing with his wives."</p><p>Edd's answer sufficed to make her forget Grenn. "What?"</p><p>Perhaps she'd misheard. Gods, she hoped she had.</p><p>But then Edd continued, "He marries his daughters, and they give him more daughters. And on and on it goes."</p><p>"That's foul," Sam said.</p><p>Grenn nodded in agreement. "It's beyond foul."</p><p>Caitie would have agreed with him as well, but she was too busy observing the girls. They looked awful—downtrodden and nervous as they carried on with their chores. It was horrifying to see.</p><p>"Hundreds of Wildlings have disappeared, and Craster's still here," Edd said. "Must be doing something right."</p><p>Caitie had to bite her tongue to keep her from making a scathing retort.</p><p>Edd sighed and left their little group to follow the others into the keep.</p><p>"What happens to the boys?" Jon asked.</p><p>Sam blinked. "Hmm?"</p><p>"He marries his daughters. What does he do with his sons?"</p><p>Nothing good, she thought. But before Caitie could say it, Jon had led his horse away. She shook off the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and followed him.</p><p>Inside, the lord commander was discussing Benjen Stark. "He said he planned to stop here on his way to the Frostfangs."</p><p>"People make all sorts of plans. I haven't seen Benjen Stark in three years. Haven't missed him. Always treated me like scum." Craster took a drink from his cup. "Haven't had any good wine for a long time. You southerners make good wine; I'll give you that," he said.</p><p>Jon, apparently, couldn't keep himself from speaking. "We're not southerners."</p><p>Craster turned to smile viciously at him. "Who's this little girl?" He looked Jon up and down. "You're prettier than half my daughters. You got a nice wet twat between your legs?"</p><p>Caitie's hands balled into fists. She was disgusted and outraged, but she also felt oddly vulnerable—highly aware of what lay under her clothes, and what Craster would do if he knew about it.</p><p>"What's your name?" Craster asked.</p><p>"Jon Snow."</p><p>"Snow, eh? Well, listen here, bastard. All you lot from south of the Wall are southerners. But now you're in the north—the real north."</p><p>"The lad meant no harm," Mormont said in an attempt to smooth things over.</p><p>"I catch that pretty little bastard talking to my daughters—"</p><p>"No one will talk to your daughters. You have my word." The lord commander glared at Jon. "Now, sit down and shut your mouth."</p><p>Through the darkness, Caitie could see the silhouettes of heads from the level above her. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she was able to make out faces—terrified, defeated faces, some of which belonged to girls no older than ten.</p><p>Caitie had seen facial expressions like those once before, and she had never wanted to see them ever again.</p><p>Craster's voice broke her out of her thoughts. "You bring any of that good wine with you?"</p><p>Mormont nodded. "We did." Believing he'd sufficiently placated Craster, the lord commander moved on to business. "We passed through six villages on the way here. All six were abandoned. Where have all the Wildlings gone?"</p><p>"I could tell ya, but I'm thirsty."</p><p>"There's a barrel of Dornish wine on the sledge. Bring it in here," Mormont ordered someone towards the entrance to the keep.</p><p>With that settled, Craster answered Mormont's question. "You want to know where they've all gone? North... to join up with Mance Rayder. Your old friend."</p><p>Caitie supposed it was better than joining the White Walkers, though not by much.</p><p>"He's no friend of mine," said Mormont. "He broke his vows; betrayed his brothers."</p><p>"Oh, aye. But once he was just a poor black crow. And now he's King-beyond-the-Wall."</p><p>"He's been calling himself King-Beyond-the-Wall for years. What's he king of? A frozen lake somewhere?"</p><p>Craster ignored the lord commander. He fixed his gaze on a brother sitting next to Mormont. "That's a good-looking axe," he said, pointing at the one in the brother's hand. "Fresh forged?"</p><p>"Give it here," Mormont said, gesturing for it. "You'll have another one made at Castle Black."</p><p>Caitie barely suppressed her scream. How dare he—how <em>dare </em>he?</p><p>But it worked because, after admiring the axe's steel and embedding it into the wooden stump in front of him, Craster gave the lord commander what he wanted. "You want to know what Mance Rayder's doing? Gathering an army. What I hear, he's already got more men than any of your southern kings."</p><p>"And where does he plan on marching this army?"</p><p>"When you're all the way north, there's only one direction to go."</p><p>All right, so maybe that wasn't better than joining the White Walker's army. From her and her friends' point of view, at least.</p><p>"These are bad times to be living alone in the wilds," Mormont said. "Cold winds are rising."</p><p>Craster spread his hands. "Let them come. My roots are sunk deep." He grabbed a girl who was behind him—she couldn't have been much older than Caitie, maybe sixteen or so—and ordered her to tell the "crows" how content she and her sisters were.</p><p>The girl swallowed. "This is our place. Our husband keeps us safe." She faltered for a moment, then went on. "Better to live free than die a slave."</p><p>But she was a slave—a slave to her father or husband or whatever he was. All of these women and girls were slaves, just like she would have been, and for some unfathomable reason, the lord commander found it acceptable.</p><p>"Don't it make you jealous, old man," Craster said, "to see me with all these young wives, and you with no one to warm your bed?"</p><p>"We chose different paths."</p><p>In that moment, Caitie hated the lord commander.</p><p>The meeting finally dispersed after Craster agreed to allow them to stay at the keep and threatened to take the hand of any man who looked at his "wives." As soon as the lord commander allowed them to go, Caitie knew she had to escape the keep. She couldn't bear to look at Craster's daughters any longer.</p><p>As soon as she was sure no one would notice, Caitie stumbled out of the keep's boundaries, trying to put as much distance between it and her.</p><p>Eventually, she found a nice, secluded area and began to pace. Caitie was so wound up, had so much anger, but she had no way to release it. She wanted to stab Craster. She wanted to punch the lord commander in the nose. What she truly wanted, though, was to live in a world where this didn't happen.</p><p>The thought of those little girls' faces made her chest constrict, and Caitie barely managed not to kick the tree beside her.</p><p>"I thought I'd find you here somewhere."</p><p>Caitie turned to face Jon. "It's disgusting," she said, and somehow she lost control over her words. "Why can't we just kill Craster and take over the keep? Why do we have to appease him?"</p><p>"Caitie," he warned.</p><p>"What? It's sick, and the Night's Watch could do something about it. We <em>should</em> do something about it."</p><p>"You know we can't."</p><p>"Yes, we can. Mormont doesn't want to."</p><p>"Caitie," he said again, this time more harshly, but she was too furious to listen.</p><p>"But of course, why should Mormont care if he rapes little girls every night. Gods, I should just kill Craster myself—"</p><p>"Caitriona," he hissed, looking around for listeners.</p><p>Caitie stopped and stared, taken aback. She hadn't ever heard Jon call her by her full name—not since her first day at Castle Black. It had the intended effect. She slumped against the tree and lowered her voice. "I'm just so <em>angry,</em> Jon."</p><p>He sighed. "I know."</p><p>"I hate this whole situation."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"You don't." She picked up a small twig nearby and began twirling it between her fingers. "Those girls are in there suffering, and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't do <em>anything</em>! I feel so useless!"</p><p>"You can't show it," Jon said.</p><p>"Oh, just fuck off!" she threw the twig at him</p><p>Jon ducked. "Damn it, Caitie, I'm trying to help you stay alive," he snapped. "Just come with me back to the keep."</p><p>"No." She crossed her arms, put off by his tone. "I don't want to see it."</p><p>"Would you rather be killed by a wight?"</p><p>The words were enough to give her pause, but still, she refused to give in.</p><p>"If I can keep my head after that meeting, and the reprimand I got from the lord commander, then so can you," he said.</p><p>"You got in trouble with Mormont?" she asked, momentarily distracted. "Are you okay?"</p><p>"I'm fine. He wasn't happy with me for speaking, but I'm not dead. Not like you will be if you stay out here."</p><p>Caitie hated it, but Jon was right. As much as she wished she could sit and sulk until they left, it was too dangerous. And she <em>really </em>did not want to become a wight. "Fine. But I don't want to be anywhere near Craster."</p><p>"Fair enough," Jon said. He softened his gaze and held his hand out. Caitie accepted grudgingly, and he pulled her to her feet. "Come on. I need a sparring partner after the day I've had."</p><p>She thought for a moment. While it wouldn't make it go away completely, she had to admit that sparring did sound like the perfect solution to release her pent-up frustrations. Owen would be livid she was sparring in anger, but Owen wasn't there to reprimand her for it. "I suppose I could help with that. I'm not in the mood to go easy on you, though."</p><p>"You never go easy on me."</p><p>Caitie shrugged. "If you think so."</p><p>Jon scoffed indignantly. "You're only saying that because I beat you last time."</p><p>"Well," she said, forgetting about all her problems for a moment. "If you're right, then you have nothing to worry about."</p><p>"Is that a challenge?"</p><p>Caitie couldn't help but smile at him.</p><p>"Yes, yes, it is."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Gilly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You disappeared yesterday," Grenn said the next day as he and Caitie were hauling a second sack of potatoes over to their friends. Mormont had put the five of them—Caitie, Grenn, Edd, Sam, and Jon—on food-duty that morning.</p><p>"Jon followed you," he continued, as Caitie avoided his gaze, "but you didn't come back for an hour. Never seen you so stiff before." He paused. "Are you all—"</p><p>"I'm fine," she said, waving a hand dismissively. As much as she appreciated him asking, she didn't want to discuss this with him. She didn't want to discuss Craster's daughters ever again, if she could help it.</p><p>Grenn stopped and frowned at her, and Caitie knew he didn't believe the lie.</p><p>"I needed to escape for a little while," she admitted. "I don't like it here."</p><p>He seemed to understand her meaning. "This Craster's a nasty bastard, isn't he?"</p><p>"That's one way of putting it."</p><p>"Well," he said, "I'm not gonna complain about having a roof over my head. But I get it. I'd like to look at a girl without losing my hand."</p><p>It took everything Caitie had not to laugh hysterically. Luckily, they made it back to their friends before she could.</p><p>Edd grumbled when he saw the two of them. "You took your sweet time."</p><p>"We haven't been gone that long." Caitie threw the sack of potatoes down on the table in front of them and took out her dagger to cut them up. Noticing an absence, she asked, "Where's Jon?"</p><p>"He went to sharpen Longclaw," Sam said, jerking his head to the left.</p><p>Caitie was a little annoyed that Jon had left them to do the chores, but she only nodded and looked back down at all the food in front of them. She figured he was still bitter she'd destroyed him yesterday at sparring.</p><p>"I'm sick of potatoes," said Grenn. "Can you die if you eat too much of the same thing?"</p><p>They all turned to Sam. "You won't die. But if you eat nothing else, you'll waste away."</p><p>"I'd be okay dying if it meant I never had to eat another potato."</p><p>"Potatoes aren't so bad. Cabbages, though…" Caitie shuddered. If there was a single food she despised, it was cabbages. One of her first memories was her brothers bribing her with cookies to finish her cabbage stew after her septa had tried—and failed—to force her. "I could die happily without ever eating a cabbage again."</p><p>"Cabbages are nothing, but the Gods are right bastards for coming up with potatoes."</p><p>"The Gods are right bastards in general," Edd said. Then he seemed to recall something. "Y'know, someone once told me that the Gods want us to have dignity. Well, that's utter shit, so I said, if the gods wanted us to have dignity, they wouldn't make us fart when we die."</p><p>"We fart when we die?" Grenn asked incredulously.</p><p>"Oh, aye. My blessed mother. I was holding her hand when she went. She farted so hard the whole bed shook." Edd started blowing raspberries to imitate the farts.</p><p>It was horrible, but Caitie imagined her mother—her proper, beautiful, ladylike mother—farting violently, and she cackled uncontrollably. "Seven Hells, that can't be true."</p><p>"You don't believe me?"</p><p>"Of course I do." Caitie giggled again. "But, Gods, no wonder my brothers didn't want me to see my mother when she died." The story wasn't strictly true. It was Maester Harkon who tried to refuse her entry to her mother's deathbed. But maesters were only for highborn families, so Caitie omitted him from her story.</p><p>"Seems a bit greedy for one man to have so many wives," Sam said. Apparently, he hadn't been paying attention to their discussion. "Wouldn't two or three be enough?"</p><p>Or none, Caitie thought, but she didn't voice it in front of the others.</p><p>Edd frowned. "We were having a serious conversation."</p><p>"Oh, very serious," she replied sarcastically.</p><p>He rolled his eyes and mock-glared at her. Caitie stuck her tongue out at him.</p><p>She was trying to think up something witty to add when she noticed Grenn was staring at some of Craster's daughters appreciatively. "Would you look at that?" he said.</p><p>Sam gazed at the pair of girls Grenn was watching. "Nothing like the sight of a woman walking away."</p><p>"I prefer watching them come towards me."</p><p>"I'm sure that's nice too."</p><p>"Yeah, well," Grenn said, "there was a milkmaid named Violet on the next farm from where I grew up. We were wrestling from the time we were six years old. Then we got older, and the wrestling, uh… changed."</p><p>At Grenn's snickering, Caitie's hand tightened around her dagger. It was ridiculous. She didn't even know who this Violet was, but she wanted to—well, she wasn't exactly sure. She just hated the idea.</p><p>Lovely, Caitie thought. She was jealous, and not even for a good reason. Oh, this was just the thing she needed.</p><p>"You were with her?" Sam asked. He tried to seem nonchalant as he continued. "How many times?"</p><p>"Well, as many times as I could."</p><p>Sam sighed longingly. "I wish I grew up on a farm."</p><p>Caitie disagreed. Farms were now firmly on her list of places she never wanted to visit.</p><p>She was barely paying attention as Edd told Sam to grab even more potatoes from the sledge. "Get the turnips, too," he added.</p><p>She tried to focus on the potatoes she was cutting up, but she couldn't get the thought of Grenn and that girl out of her mind.</p><p>It wasn't until she felt a stinging pain on her finger that Caitie came back to reality. "Shit." She pulled her finger away from the knife.</p><p>Grenn furrowed his brow worriedly. "You good?"</p><p>"It's fine."</p><p>"It don't look fine." He grabbed the hand and observed the cut on her finger. It was shallow and would heal quickly, but Caitie was so embarrassed she wouldn't have cared had she cut her whole finger off.</p><p>It didn't help her inner turmoil that Grenn was now holding her hand.</p><p>"Really, it's okay." Caitie pulled her hand away as fast as she could. "I'd better get it wrapped. I'll see you both at supper?" The two men glanced at her strangely, but they didn't object as Caitie tore off.</p><p>Soon enough, she found Jon sitting with his back against a tree, his sword in one hand, and a whetstone in the other.</p><p>"What's with you?" He asked. Caitie realized she must have looked as upset as she felt. She was about to reply when he noticed her bleeding finger. "What happened?"</p><p>"Nothing."</p><p>Jon's face went flat as if to say <em>I don't believe you</em>.</p><p>"I don't want to talk about it," she said. Thankfully, he didn't push her, and Caitie plopped herself down next to him. "Do you have a bandage?" Jon nodded and rummaged around in his pack for a bit until he found one and handed it to her.</p><p>Caitie was winding it around her finger when Ghost found them. He sat down between her and Jon and looked around like he was waiting for something.</p><p>Soon enough, Sam appeared, along with the girl from the day before.</p><p>Jon glared at him. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"This is Gilly," Sam said nervously. "She's one of Craster's... daughters."</p><p>Caitie gave Gilly a smile and a little wave, but Jon only glowered.</p><p>"Hello, Gilly. What are you <em>doing</em>?"</p><p>"Sam said you could help—" she started.</p><p>"I'm sorry, but Sam knows we're not supposed to—"</p><p>"She's pregnant."</p><p>Caitie blinked, taking Gilly in again with fresh eyes. The gravity of what Craster did to his daughters hit her all over again.</p><p>Jon stared at Sam in exasperation at the information, but the latter refused to relent. "We have to take her with us when we leave."</p><p>"<em>What</em>?"</p><p>"know it sounds a bit mad—"</p><p>"No, it doesn't sound a bit mad; it's impossible," Jon argued, shooting up so he could argue at Sam's eye-level. "The lord commander ordered us to—"</p><p>"We are sworn to protect."</p><p>"Sam, we can't—"</p><p>"Please, ser, please," Gilly finally said. "I can run if I have to."</p><p>Jon still insisted it was impossible, and Caitie decided she should speak. She stood up, so she was standing between her two friends, and fixed a glare at Jon. "I agree with Sam and Gilly. We should take her with us. We can figure out how, later."</p><p>"We <em>can't.</em>"</p><p>"I'm going to have a baby; if it's a boy—" Gilly stopped abruptly and refused to say anything more.</p><p>"If it's a boy, what?"</p><p>Gilly looked around and closed her eyes, but she couldn't seem to muster up the courage to answer.</p><p>Jon gave her a pointed look and said, more harshly than was necessary, "You want us to risk our lives for you, and you won't even tell us why?"</p><p>No one said anything else. Gilly looked between the three of them in horror for a painfully long time before she ran off.</p><p>"What did you do that for?" Sam cried when she was gone.</p><p>"Do what? Ask her a question?"</p><p>"She didn't need to tell us why we should risk our lives for her. We already know the answer," Caitie said.</p><p>Jon glared at her, but Sam put a hand on Caitie's shoulder. "Thank you, Kitty." He turned to Jon. "You were cruel."</p><p>"Cruel? Sam, are you in such a hurry to lose a hand?"</p><p>"I didn't touch her!"</p><p>"No, you just want to steal her! What do you think Craster cuts off for that?"</p><p>Caitie was about to yell at Jon for the implication, when Sam said, much more kindly than she would have, "I can't steal her. She's a person, not a goat."</p><p>Caitie beamed, but Jon refused to budge.</p><p>"We're heading deeper and deeper into Wildling territory. We can't take a girl with us, Mormont wouldn't have it. And even if he would, what would we do with her? Who's going to deliver a baby? You?"</p><p>Sam thought about it. "I could try," he said.</p><p>Jon shot him a look.</p><p>"What? I've read about it. A bit," he admitted. "But Caitie could help me. She has to know about birthing babies."</p><p>Caitie scoffed. "What? Just because I'm a girl, I must know about giving birth?"</p><p>Sam winced. "I didn't mean—"</p><p>She waved him down, sighing. "It's all right. I do know a bit about it. Not much, but enough so that I could try." Though, Caitie thought, most successful births were a matter of luck rather than skill. But she didn't tell her friends that.</p><p>"See?" Sam said, turning back to Jon.</p><p>He bowed his head and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sam. We can't help her."</p><p>Angry and frustrated by Jon's insistence, Sam stomped his foot and ran off, presumably to follow Gilly.</p><p>Jon sighed as he sat back down against the tree. "Why were you encouraging him?" he asked Caitie.</p><p>She glared at him, trying to channel her mother's icy stare as best she could remember. "Because <em>he's</em> trying to do the right thing."</p><p>She let the implication set in. Jon glowered more deeply than Caitie thought was possible. "And I'm not; is that it?" he snapped.</p><p>"Yes, that's exactly it, actually."</p><p>"We can't—"</p><p>"But we can. We could cut her hair, blend her in—"</p><p>Jon put Longclaw down and grabbed Caitie's arm. He could tell she was about to pace. "Caitie, it isn't possible—you know that as well as Sam."</p><p>"You <em>would</em> say that. Gods, you're such a—ugh!" She wrenched her arm away and stood up to leave before saying something she couldn't take back.</p><p>"Where are you going?"</p><p>"For a walk," she replied tersely.</p><p>He tried to grab her arm again. "Will you please stop?"</p><p>"Leave me alone!"</p><p>Jon shook his head, frustrated. "Fine."</p><p>"Fine," Caitie hissed back, as she couldn't think of anything better to say.</p><p>Ghost barked and followed her. She heard Jon mutter, "Take her side, then," before grabbing his sword and the whetstone.</p><p>If Caitie weren't so angry, she would have laughed. Most likely, Ghost was only following her in the hopes of some food.</p><p>As the two of them walked along the outskirts of the Keep's grounds, she could think more clearly. Jon, as much as she loathed to admit it, was right. Logistically, they had no way to take Gilly with them without putting her in even more danger. Knowing this, however, didn't make it any easier to swallow.</p><p>Still, she'd have to apologize to Jon later—much later.</p><p>Before too long, she and Ghost came upon Gilly, furiously throwing fruits and vegetables into their respective bowls at a covered table on the outskirts of the keep. Sam was nowhere to be found, and before Caitie could change her mind, she was walking towards the other girl, her big direwolf protector in tow.</p><p>"If you can't help me," Gilly said when she approached, "then you shouldn't be talking to me."</p><p>Caitie sighed miserably. "I know, I'm so sorry. I wish I could help—honestly, I do."</p><p>"But you can't. Just like your friends."</p><p>"My friends are idiots," Caitie said. "They don't understand. Well, Sam tries to, at least, but even he hasn't a clue. Sometimes, I wonder how long they'd last in the world without their manly bits. I like to think it wouldn't be long."</p><p>Gilly stared at her. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>Caitie stopped and thought about her next words. What she was about to say was stupid and reckless—more than likely to get her raped, killed, or both.</p><p>She said it anyway.</p><p>"I'm not," she lowered her voice, "a black brother. Not really, anyway. My name is Riona."</p><p>It would do very little in practice, but it made Caitie feel a bit more secure, not giving out her actual name.</p><p>"You…" Gilly observed her, and suddenly her expression changed from confusion to realization.</p><p>"You can't tell anyone," Caitie said.</p><p>"I won't." There was no hesitation, and Caitie thanked her lucky stars.</p><p>She stopped to think about what to say, but the curiosity was eating at her, and Caitie couldn't stop herself from asking, "What happens if your baby is a boy?"</p><p>Gilly looked down at her feet. "I can't tell you."</p><p>"Does Craster kill him?"</p><p>"Sort of." She shook her head. "Worse than 'sort of.'"</p><p>"Listen," Caitie said hurriedly, ignoring the vagueness of the answer, "we're going to the Fist of the First Men when we leave here. Maybe when we come back, I can sneak you out and take you with us to Castle Black."</p><p>"I don't have time for that," Gilly cried.</p><p>"I know, I'm sorry. But it's the best I can do. You wouldn't be safe out there, and neither would your baby."</p><p>Gilly closed her eyes and tears leaked out. Before Caitie could think about the consequences, she instinctively put her arm around the other girl's shoulder. She wondered if Gilly had a mother or a sister or anyone to protect her—or even to just simply be there for her. Based on what Caitie had seen so far, she doubted it.</p><p>She stopped crying eventually and said, "Your—your friend, Sam. He's kind."</p><p>"He's one of the best men I know."</p><p>Gilly stared down at her hands, lost in thought. Then, "If you're a girl, what are you doing here?"</p><p>Caitie debated whether to tell her, but then she decided she was fucked anyway if Gilly said something, so why not? "My father betrothed me to someone I didn't want to marry. He was the heir to House Hightower—a powerful family in the south. But he was, well, evil, I suppose is the right word. So I ran."</p><p>"You're highborn?"</p><p>Caitie nodded slowly. The more she spoke, the more she decided this was, by far, the most ridiculously idiotic thing she had ever done.</p><p>"I've never met a highborn. You're nicer than I thought you'd be."</p><p>Despite her anxiety, Caitie chuckled. "Thanks—I think."</p><p>"Is your father like mine?"</p><p>"Not as bad. My betrothed, however... well, that's another story."</p><p>Gilly was about to answer when Ghost's hackles went up. Caitie looked around. Although she couldn't see any unwanted observers, it was probably time to get away from Gilly before someone caught her. "I have to go, but I'll... see what I can do in the meantime."</p><p>Gilly nodded, but it was obvious the girl had no hope left. Caitie gave her one last sorrowful glance and walked off, wishing she could change the world.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hightower is the house that rules Old Town. They're a decently powerful family in the lore. Gerold Hightower was Aerys's Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He was even killed by Ned and his party at the Tower of Joy. Meanwhile, Loras and Margaery's mother was a Hightower, and Jorah's wife was her sister. </p><p>Their father—Leyton—has a lot of children (like 9 or 10), so I added an extra one for my purposes. What can I say? I'm a bad person who fucks with the lore because it's only mentioned in the books and not the show. Hate me if you want. I probably deserve it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Dangerous Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After her conversation with Gilly, Caitie immediately went to find Jon, so she could apologize. She figured he'd be having supper with their friends, but when she got to the Watch's fire, the only one of her friends in sight was Edd.</p><p>"Where's Jon?" she asked.</p><p>Edd gestured towards the keep, though he didn't take his eyes off the stew he was inhaling. "With the lord commander."</p><p>Caitie sighed and sat herself down by the fire. She'd have to wait to speak with him.</p><p>"Ale?" Edd asked, handing her a cup.</p><p>Caitie took it appreciatively and gulped it down. Unlike her usual reaction to ale, though, the taste of it made her cough violently. Edd chortled and thumped her on the back as she sputtered.</p><p>"What the hell is that? It's even worse than the ale at Castle Black," she said once she finished choking on her drink.</p><p>"Aye. This is the stuff Craster didn't want."</p><p>"I can see why." It didn't stop her from taking another tentative sip. After the day she'd had, Caitie needed it.</p><p>She sat beside Edd, sipping as much of the ale as she could take and thought of home—both of Norwood and Castle Black—but soon, her thoughts were interrupted when Rast and a man by the name of Karl Tanner started discussing Craster's daughters from the other side of their fire.</p><p>If Jon and Sam were the best the Night's Watch had to offer, then Karl Tanner was the worst. He was sadistic and unremorseful. His face never seemed to portray anything other than cruel humor, and his eyes were squinty, so he looked perpetually suspicious.</p><p>"I'd fuck them," Tanner was saying. "Don't matter to me their daddy's broken them in."</p><p>Caitie tensed.</p><p>"Don't do anything stupid," Edd said quietly, but he didn't understand. She wasn't tensing from anger—although she <em>was</em> angry—she was tensing from fear.</p><p>Rast was, to put it mildly, an utter moron. The likelihood of him being smart enough to figure her out was slim, at best, and he couldn't hope to defeat her in a fair fight. Karl Tanner, on the other hand… he knew what he was doing when it came to a blade, nor was he stupid. Caitie was sure that he would rape her if he ever found out the truth, and she didn't know if she could stop should he try.</p><p>"I'd take the short blonde one," Rast said.</p><p>Tanner glared coldly. "You can have her after me."</p><p>She heard Edd snort quietly in disgust. "Brothers of the Night's Watch," he said. "So much for their vows."</p><p>Caitie nodded slowly and stared into the fire, trying to ignore the horrible images now flashing through her head.</p><p>Tanner broke her out of her unwanted musings. "Caitie, is it?"</p><p>"Yes," she said, pitching her voice as low as she could and trying to seem unafraid. Caitie wasn't sure she sounded convincing, but Tanner didn't notice.</p><p>He observed her for a moment or so. "You're not from Flea Bottom." It wasn't a question.</p><p>"No," she said, "I'm from White Harbor." Caitie was rather impressed with how smoothly she lied.</p><p>"An' how old are you?"</p><p>"Fifteen."</p><p>"Yer a little runt." She was sure he meant it as a joke, but his laugh was so devoid of emotion, it didn't come off as funny.</p><p>She forced a chuckle anyway.</p><p>"I saw you sparring with that Snow bastard the other day. You could teach me a few tricks with those daggers of yours."</p><p>Caitie wanted to say no, she couldn't, but Tanner hadn't asked; he'd commanded, and she was too afraid—too weak, she thought to herself—to aggravate him unnecessarily.</p><p>Luckily, before Caitie could answer, Jon was next to her. "Mormont wants you," he said, not even bothering to hide his glare at Tanner.</p><p>Tanner scowled. "He's not done here."</p><p>"Should I tell the lord commander you interfered with an order?"</p><p>Somehow, Tanner managed to scowl even deeper, but he didn't argue.</p><p>Caitie scrambled up as fast as she could and followed Jon away from the fire. She felt terrible for leaving Edd with only those monsters for company, but not enough to stay.</p><p>When she and Jon were alone in a covert location, she exhaled the breath she'd been holding and flung her arms around his neck. "Thank you so much. Gods, I really owe you for that one."</p><p>After a pause, he cleared his throat and pulled away to look at her. "Are you all right?"</p><p>"I think so. Tanner doesn't seem to suspect anything." Caitie looked down at her feet and decided it was time to apologize. "I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier. I was…" she forced herself to say the word, "wrong." Gods, but she hated admitting it.</p><p>Jon stayed quiet, staring at her with his eyes wide.</p><p>"Oh, don't look so surprised," she said, putting a hand on her hip. "I <em>can</em> admit it."</p><p>He smirked.</p><p>"Shut up."</p><p>"I didn't say anything."</p><p>"You were thinking it," she grumbled as she tried to hide a smile.</p><p>"I'm sorry too," he said. "I do wish we could have helped Gilly."</p><p>Caitie sighed. "I know. I just really hate it here; I think it's wearing on me."</p><p>"Mormont says we'll be at the keep at least a week."</p><p>"Oh, how wonderful." She tapped on her arm with her fingers frustratedly. "You know, Gilly said that Craster kills his sons. Or, well, she said 'sort of.' But I rather think it means the same thing."</p><p>"You spoke with her?" Caitie grimaced, and Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. "You told her, didn't you?"</p><p>She didn't answer.</p><p>"You know, sometimes I think you have a death wish," he said.</p><p>"I suppose I wanted a girl to talk with. I get sick of all you men, sometimes." Caitie nudged him, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn't work, so she sighed. "Gilly, of all people, understands. She isn't going to say anything."</p><p>Jon was silent for a long time, and then he said, as grave as death itself, "I hope you're right."</p><p>Caitie deflated instantly, hugging her arms to herself. "Me too."</p><hr/><p>Caitie wanted, more than anything, to ignore Jon's words—but they stuck, despite her best efforts. In telling Gilly the truth, she had made a tremendous lapse in judgment, and it could cost her life—or worse.</p><p>To try and make her feel better, Jon gave her the last of his ale—thankfully, better than Edd's—but even the liquor did little to help Caitie sleep, and she stayed up half the night worrying over the consequences of her stupidity.</p><p>As the days went by, however, she found Gilly was true to her word. No one confronted her. And with the fear dissipating, the next week at Craster's was, somehow, not the worst thing in the world.</p><p>It wasn't particularly <em>good,</em> but it was at least better than expected.</p><p>Sam spent most of his time either secretly talking with Gilly, or about Gilly. Caitie and—grudgingly—Jon usually kept an eye out for anyone who might tell.</p><p>Sometimes, Caitie joined them. Gilly was a breath of fresh air after almost a year of spending every waking moment surrounded by men. They discussed everything Jon and Sam didn't appreciate. After learning Gilly didn't know how to braid hair, Caitie promised to teach her properly when they came back to the keep—because they <em>would </em>come back.</p><p>But, as much as she enjoyed Gilly's company, it was also heartbreaking to watch her and Sam.</p><p>Caitie knew he had liked Gilly, but as the days passed, she was noticing him falling in love. She wished she could support him, but Sam loving Gilly would end badly for everyone involved. And since Caitie had yet to find a way of helping her, she also felt guilty every time she looked at the Wildling girl.</p><p>As for Karl Tanner, he didn't bother Caitie often, unless he wanted a sparring partner. While Tanner still terrified her, Caitie was beginning to see the situation as a gift in disguise. He was giving her all the information she would ever need to fend him off.</p><p>When they practiced, Caitie would make a mental note: his technique worked best in close-quarter fighting, so he had trouble out in the open. He liked to play dirty, so she'd need to watch out for those tactics. He favored his right arm, and whenever he used his left to strike, it would be a fraction less precise.</p><p>She repeated the notes to herself at night when she couldn't sleep.</p><p>Beyond all this, Caitie played down her skills so he would underestimate her in a proper fight. Resisting the instinct to follow proper form was difficult, but she figured learning to act incompetent in a battle was an important skill to have, anyhow, especially as a woman.</p><p>Whenever Tanner commented on one of Craster's daughters, Caitie would bite her tongue until she was alone, head for the nearest tree, and attack it with his image in her mind.</p><p>She was beginning to establish a decent routine when, of course, Craster thwarted it.</p><p>After a long day of duties and sparring and dealing with Tanner, Caitie had fallen into a dreamless sleep near the firepit at the center of the keep; Sam on one side and Jon on the other. She wasn't sure what time it was when the door to the outside burst open and woke her—the middle of the night, if she had to guess.</p><p>"Out, all of you," Craster said.</p><p>Rubbing her bleary eyes as everyone roused themselves, Caitie looked around the room, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. When she saw that Jon hadn't stirred from his sleeping roll, she went to shake him.</p><p>Except he was gone. There was no sign of him as she glanced around the room once again until Sam elbowed her and nodded towards Craster.</p><p>Jon was laying, beaten and bloodied, at his feet.</p><p>"Bastard's been meddling where he shouldn't!" Craster said as he kicked him and turned to the lord commander with Jon's sword in his hand. "I want you and your men gone. And you will make this right." His voice was low and deadly as he waved Longclaw at him.</p><p>"Wait outside," Mormont told Jon, though he didn't take his eyes off Craster.</p><p>Jon bristled, standing up. "Lord Commander—"</p><p>"Now!"</p><p>This time, he obeyed.</p><p>Sam grabbed Caitie's arm and dragged her after their friend, out into the cold night air. When they found Jon, Sam forced him to sit on the Watch's cart so he could tend to his wounds.</p><p>"What happened? Are you okay?" Caitie asked as Sam inspected his head injuries. By the look of it, Jon would have a black eye for at least a week.</p><p>"I'm bloody fine," he spat.</p><p>"Your face seems to disagree." He glared at her, but Caitie ignored it and turned to Sam. "Is there anything I can do?"</p><p>"I need a wet cloth," Sam said.</p><p>She was about to go search for one when Lord Commander Mormont found them.</p><p>Sam swallowed nervously. "Lord Commander—"</p><p>"Leave now. Both of you."</p><p>Caitie had half a mind to refuse Mormont's orders and defend Jon—although she wasn't precisely sure what she would be defending him from—but Sam pulled her away back inside the keep before she could.</p><p>"We're packing up," Edd told them when they found the others. "Grab your things and start loading the sledge. The lord commander says we leave at sunup."</p><p>Caitie picked up her daggers, put on her cloak, and did as Edd told. It was a good distraction from worrying over Jon's fate.</p><p>The sun had just risen when Gilly came out of the keep, and Sam, who was <em>supposed </em>to be helping Caitie load their ravens, followed her.</p><p>"Sam!" Caitie hissed.</p><p>It wasn't that she didn't want him to say goodbye to Gilly, but after last night, Caitie wanted to get out of the keep as soon as possible and with little fuss. If Craster caught yet <em>another</em> brother doing something he didn't like, he might just kill him. No, he absolutely would.</p><p>Sam ignored her and snuck around the back of a large pile of wood. Caitie, though annoyed, turned around to stand watch.</p><p>"Gilly," he whispered.</p><p>"You're leaving." She sounded passive, but also angry.</p><p>"I—I wanted to give you something."</p><p>Caitie didn't hear much else of the conversation, mostly because she didn't want to intrude on it, but when Sam returned, his smile was so big she thought his face might fall off.</p><p>"Come on," he said, ignoring her suspicious stare. "Let's get all this packed."</p><p>An hour later, they were finally away from Craster's Keep. If not for the guilt of leaving Gilly behind, Caitie would have danced—actually danced—with happiness.</p><p>Instead, she kept her horse at the back of the group and trotted alongside Jon. He looked better than a few hours before, though he'd have scars from the night's incident.</p><p>"You got your sword back," she said, noticing Longclaw hanging from his belt.</p><p>"Aye."</p><p>Jon, quite visibly, wasn't in the mood to talk further, but Caitie couldn't help herself. "What happened last night?"</p><p>He shifted on his horse, looking uncomfortable. "Nothing."</p><p>"You got us thrown out of the keep, and beaten half to death. That is<em> not</em> nothing." He glared, but Caitie continued anyway. "Craster said you were meddling in things you shouldn't. But what could you have possibly seen that would make him so angry?"</p><p>As soon as she voiced her question, Jon turned sharply to look at her. "Do you trust me?"</p><p>"Of course I do," she said immediately. "More than just about anyone."</p><p>"Then trust me when I say you don't want to know."</p><p>Caitie opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it. As much as she wanted to know, as much as she hated being kept in the dark, there was a chilly finality to Jon's words, and it unnerved her. Whatever he'd seen, it had been truly abhorrent.</p><p>"Okay. If you say I don't want to know..." She swallowed her morbid curiosity, "then I trust you."</p><p>"Thank you," he said, letting out a breath.</p><p>Caitie tried not to think about it any longer. But she couldn't help the feeling that Craster was doing something horrible—worse than raping his daughters—and it sat with her for the rest of their journey to the Fist.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is it just me, or does anyone else find it strange that the leader of the mutineers doesn't get a proper introduction? Like, he shows up for the first time in the episode before the mutiny. Then everyone acts like it's such a shock when he kills Craster, but the payoff doesn't work because there was no setup for his character. Rast, yes—but Tanner, no. The mutineers are such an important plot point, and he's such an essential villain in Season 4—why was he introduced so late? I mean, I understand he's a show-only character, but my god, if you're going to create a new villain, commit to it. Anyways, I gave him an introduction because it's always been a pet peeve of mine.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>